THE  TEMPTING  of 
FATHER  ANTHONY 

GEORGE   HORTON 


v&XS/' 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT 


THE   TEMPTING  OF 
FATHER    ANTHONY 


Paraskev£. 


Tempting  of 
Father  Anthony 

C^GEORGE  HORTON 

Author  of  "Like  Another  Helen" 

WITH  FIVE  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  OTTO  SCHNEIDER 


CHICAGO 

£Z 

90 


COPYRIGHT 
BY  A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 

A.  D.  1901 


t 


AFFECTIONATELY    INSCRIBED 
TO 

KATHERINE    D.   HORTON 


v  Epcara  ffoffns  fir,  tizuv  xpivei 

hat  Tcav  drcdvTcav  datfiovwv  uirg 

r]  ffxaios  iffTiv  j)  xa&cuv   aiteipoq  u)v 

Oux  olds  rov  figyiffrav  avOpdntutt;  Oeov. 


FRAGMENT  OF   LOST   PLAY 


939852 


List  of  Illustrations 

PAGE 

PARASKEVE        .......  Frontispiece 

THE  TORCHES  WERE  RAISED  ON  HIGH         .         .  Jl 

PAPA  EVANGELOS  MOUNTED  HIS  MULE  .  .  I2Q 
STEPPING  SAFELY  FROM  ROCK  TO  ROCK  .  .  225 
BURNING  IN  THE  LEVEL  RAYS  OF  THE  SUN,  WAS 

A  TERRA  COTTA  SAIL          ....         24! 


The  Tempting  of  Father 
Anthony 

I. 

ONE  drowsy  afternoon  in  August,  Anas- 
tasi  Kriezes  lay  in  the  cool  shadow 
of  a  fig-tree  reading.  Above  him,  white 
against  the  hillside,  was  the  quaint  town  of 
Damala.  It  looks  like  a  snow-bank  when 
seen  far  from  the  sea.  Below  him  were 
the  plains  of  ancient  Trcezen,  and  at  a 
greater  distance  laughed  the  open  sea.  All 
the  country  round  him  was  sacred  in  classic 
interest,  and  beautiful  beyond  the  portrayal 
of  pen.  But  of  these  things  Anastasi  had 
no  perception.  From  his  infancy  he  had 
gathered  anemones  on  the  site  of  a  buried 
city,  and  he  knew  no  phase  of  nature  save 
those  of  mountains  and  sea. 

9 


The  Tempting  of 

Besides,  Anastasi  was  seventeen,  and  he 
was  reading  for  the  hundredth  time  a  story 
that  had  produced  as  strong  an  impres 
sion  on  his  mind  as  fairy  tale  ever  made 
upon  the  mind  of  boy.  He  lay  flat  upon 
his  stomach,  elbows  on  the  ground,  face 
resting  between  his  two  hands.  Before  him 
was  a  large,  flat  book  written  in  Greek, 
and  entitled  "  Lives  of  the  Saints."  It 
was  opened  at  the  "  Life  of  St.  Anthony 
the  Great,"  and  Anastasi  was  in  the  middle 
of  an  exciting  adventure  between  that  won 
derful  man  and  a  whole  army  of  demons. 

The  youth  had  acquired  his  love  of  eccle 
siastical  literature  by  heredity.  His  father 
was  officiating  priest  of  the  little  Greek 
church  of  Damala,  an  office  which  had 
been  held  by  members  of  the  same  fam 
ily  through  many  succeeding  generations. 
No  one  doubted  that  Anastasi  would  marry 
in  time,  and  take  his  father's  place  in  the 
two  -  roomed  house  by  the  church,  and 
in  the  church  itself.  He  would  thus  be- 


Father  Anthony 

come  the  greatest  man  in  the  commu 
nity,  greater  than  the  village  schoolmaster 
and  the  demarch  (mayor).  Consciousness 
of  this  fact  had  given  him  a  serious  air 
almost  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  talk, 
and  had  inspired  him  to  hold  aloof  from 
his  more  frivolous  comrades.  No  one  had 
ever  seen  him  play  marbles,  or  heard  his 
voice  merrily  shouting  in  the  game  of  mora. 
He  was  now  reading  aloud  and  his  voice 
had  an  excited  ring: 

"And  St.  Anthony  went  to  certain  tombs, 
which  were  a  long  way  from  the  village, 
having  ordered  a  certain  acquaintance  of  his 
to  bring  him  bread  every  so  many  days;  and 
he  went  into  a  tomb,  and  the  servant  went 
away,  having  closed  the  door  after  him. 
And  the  saint  remained  alone  and  prayed. 
But  the  devil  could  not  endure  these  things, 
and  fearing  lest  the  desert  should  be  filled 
with  saints,  he  went  one  night  with  a  throng 
of  demons,  and  he  gave  Anthony  such 
a  beating  that  he  was  stretched  out  sense- 


The  Tempting  of 

less  from  the  blows.  On  the  morning, 
thanks  to  God's  providence,  the  servant 
came  with  bread,  and  opening  the  door 
and  seeing  him  there  as  one  dead,  he  lifted 
him  up  and  took  him  to  the  village.  And 
when  the  priests  were  all  collected  together, 
they  regarded  him  as  dead.  But  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  he  came  to  himself, 
and  seeing  how  all  slept  except  the  ser 
vant,  to  him  he  nodded,  that  he  should 
lead  Anthony  into  the  country,  where  he 
had  found  him.  Perceiving  this,  the  ser 
vant  assisted  him,  and  closed  him  again 
in  the  tomb.  Then  the  saint  fell  on  his 
face,  and  after  praying,  shouted:  'Here 
I  am!  I  do  not  flee  from  blows,  and 
if  you  do  me  greater  evils,  you  cannot 
separate  me  from  the  love  of  Christ,  my 
Saviour.' 

"The  demons  became  more  furious,  see 
ing  that  beaten  he  defied  them,  and  they 
took  the  forms  of  reptiles  and  wild  beasts, 
and  filled  the  place  with  lions,  and  bears, 


Father  Anthony 


leopards,  bulls,  snakes,  wolves,  asps,  and 
other  similar  shapes,  and  each  in  its  own 
way  waged  war  against  him.  The  lion 
roared  to  eat  him,  the  bull  to  gore  him, 
and  the  scorpion  tried  to  sting  him  —  " 

"Anastasi!  Anastasi!"  called  a  shrill 
voice. 

The  boy  did  not  hear. 

"The  saint,  being  beaten  and  stung  by 
them,  felt  a  most  terrible  pain  in  all  his 
body,  but  in  his  soul  he  was  fearless  and 
wakeful;  though  he  groaned  for  the  pain 
of  his  body,  yet  his  mind  was  clear,  and 
he  laughed  the  demons  to  scorn  — ' 

"Anastasi!  Anastasi!  where  are  you?" 

"And  he  said  if  you  had  the  power,  one 
of  you  would  be  sufficient  to  conquer  me. 
But  since  your  prince  has  lost  courage, 
for  that  reason  you  come  in  a  throng  to 
terrify  me — " 

"Oh,  here  you  are!"  said  a  boyish 
voice.  "  1  thought  I  should  never  find  you. 
Our  mothers  are  going  to  bake  bread,  and 

'3 


The  Tempting  of 

they  want  us  to  go  up  the  ravine  for  a  don 
key-load  of  wild  thyme." 

The  speaker  was  Kotsas,  son  of  the  de- 
march,  and  the  only  boy  in  Damala  who 
was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  Anastasi. 

The  latter  meekly  closed  the  book  and 
proceeded  up  the  hill  with  his  friend.  The 
two  boys  were  dressed  exactly  alike,  and  a 
queer  couple  they  would  have  seemed  to 
any  one  not  accustomed  to  their  costume. 
Each  wore  the  vraki,  short  breeches  of  blue 
homespun  tied  about  the  leg  at  the  knee. 
But  such  breeches!  So  voluminous  were 
they  that  a  great  bag  of  superfluous  cloth 
dropped  down  between  the  legs  and  almost 
swept  the  ground.  This  bag  swung  to  and 
fro  like  a  pendulum  as  its  wearer  walked, 
and  he  seemed  to  straddle  his  legs  to  give 
it  room  to  oscillate.  Although  it  was  sum 
mer  in  a  hot  clime,  the  boys'  calves  were 
encased  in  thick  woolen  stockings,  also 
home-made.  Each  wore  a  sleeveless, 
double-breasted  vest  over  an  ordinary  col- 


Father  Anthony 


ored  shirt.  Heavy,  pointed  shoes  and  wide- 
brimmed  straw  hats  completed  the  singular 
costumes,  so  familiar  in  the  islands  and  sea 
ports  of  Greece.  The  boys  themselves  pre 
sented  a  marked  difference  in  physical  char 
acteristics.  The  demarch's  son  was  short, 
pudgy,  and  rather  hard  of  breath.  He  had 
a  habit  of  hiding  huge  chunks  of  bread  in 
the  bosom  of  his  shirt,  and  he  stuffed  one 
in  his  mouth  whenever  unobserved.  He 
was  completely  under  the  influence  of  Anas- 
tasi,  who  was  the  stronger  character. 

The  latter  was  handsome  even  for  a 
Greek  boy.  He  was  tall  and  straight,  with 
thin  face  and  regular  features.  His  eyes 
were  big  and  brown,  and  his  hair  curly. 

There  was  no  other  life  stirring  except 
the  two  boys.  Everything  else  possessed 
of  motion  or  of  sound  gave  forth  a  sleepy 
influence.  To  such  a  land  must  the  lotus- 
eaters  have  come,  where  it  "seemeth  always 
afternoon."  The  few  sleepy  clouds  in  the 
blue  sky  moved  leisurely.  The  white  sails  on 

'5 


The  Tempting  of 

the  shimmery  waters  seemed  to  drift  from 
one  horizon  to  another.  One  could  imag 
ine  the  sailors  asleep  on  the  decks,  forget 
ful  of  their  wives. 

The  boys  passed  through  a  pear  orchard 
where  a  million  iridescent  green  beetles 
were  blundering  clumsily  among  the  fruit. 
The  insects  were  the  incarnation  of  sum 
mer.  They  were  lazy,  yet  fierce  and  pas 
sionate.  Their  mingled  choiring  made  a 
golden  murmur,  and  when  a  single  one 
hummed  by,  his  wings  sounded  like  the  low 
note  of  a  bass  viol.  Every  moment  a  honey 
bee  or  a  blue-fly  went  by  on  a  higher 
octave. 

On  the  balconies  of  the  two-story  white 
houses,  the  inmates  were  sleeping.  The 
little  square  in  the  center  of  the  town  was 
deserted.  The  doors  of  its  two  or  three 
stores  of  general  merchandise  were  open, 
but  the  merchants  were  dreaming  deep  in 
the  cool  twilight  interiors. 

The  priest's  house  and  the  church  were 

16 


Father  Anthony 


situated  on  the  upper  side  of  the  town,  in  a 
fragrant  pine  grove.  The  house  was  a  two- 
story  structure,  built,  like  nearly  all  the 
dwellings  in  Greece,  of  stone  held  together 
by  adhesive  mud.  It  consisted  of  one  large 
room  below,  with  a  hard  earth  floor,  and 
another  large  room  above.  At  one  side  of 
the  lower  apartment  was  the  family  bed, 
and  at  one  end  was  an  old-fashioned  fire 
place,  where  cooking  was  done.  A  table,  a 
couple  of  benches,  and  two  or  three  chairs 
completed  the  furnishing  of  the  room.  As 
for  mural  decorations,  an  eikon  of  the  most 
Holy  Virgin  hung  over  the  bed;  and  a  num 
ber  of  pans  and  cooking  utensils,  prominent 
among  which  were  several  long-handled 
copper  dippers  for  the  making  of  black  cof 
fee,  were  suspended  about  the  fireplace. 
The  scanty  dishes  of  the  household  reposed 
in  a  rack  over  a  stone  sink  opposite  the 
bed. 

Upstairs  long  strings  of  garlic  were  sus 
pended   from    one   wall   to   the    other   like 

17 


The  Tempting  of 

the  cables  of  a  suspension  bridge.  The 
leaves  had  been  plaited  into  ropes,  and 
thus  the  bulbs  were  held  together.  Here 
also  were  piled  or  stowed  away  whatever 
reserves  of  dried  or  vegetable  food  the 
family  chanced  to  have  on  hand,  and  here 
Anastasi  slept  on  the  floor  with  his  little 
brother.  Their  bed  consisted  of  a  straw 
mattress,  and  when  cold  they  covered  them 
selves  with  goat  skins.  The  oven,  for  which 
the  boys  were  to  collect  the  fragrant  thyme, 
was  outside  the  house.  It  was  a  conical 
structure,  inclosing  a  spacious  cavern,  inside 
of  which  the  fire  was  built.  When  its  floor 
became  hot,  the  fire  was  raked  one  side, 
and  the  huge  loaves  of  unbaked  bread 
were  laid  in  the  ashes. 

Kuria  (Mrs.)  Kriezes  and  the  demarch's 
wife  shared  the  oven  together,  as  their 
houses  were  near. 

Not  a  soul  was  stirring  at  the  parsonage. 

On  the  shady  side  of  the  building  there 
was  a  long  stone  bench  jutting  out  from 

18 


Father  Anthony 


the  wall.  It  served  as  a  seat  for  the  fam 
ily  on  summer  evenings,  the  wall  provid 
ing  a  back,  and  it  was  the  priest's  favorite 
place  of  siesta  after  the  noonday  meal. 
Papa  (priest)  Evangelos  was  stretched 
flat  upon  his  back,  and  but  for  his  truly 
masculine  snores,  a  foreigner  might  have 
mistaken  him  for  a  bearded  lady  in  re 
pose.  No  one,  however,  could  possibly 
have  thought  him  a  sleeping  beauty.  His 
chimney-pot  hat,  with  its  brim  on  top, 
had  fallen  off,  and  rolled  some  distance 
down  the  hill.  The  playful  kitten  that 
had  assisted  it  on  its  way,  yielding  to  the 
influence  of  the  hour,  was  sleeping  inside. 
The  good  priest's  long,  gray  hair,  worn 
in  a  woman's  knot,  had  partially  escaped 
from  its  pins,  and  one  strand  hung  down 
beside  the  bench.  His  long,  black  robes 
were  also  feminine  in  appearance;  but  his 
venerable  beard,  which  every  breeze  blew 
about  his  face,  was  patriarchal  in  the  ex 
treme.  Take  it  all  in  all,  the  ingenuity 

19 


The  Tempting  of 

of  man  has  never  invented  a  stranger  phan 
tom  than  a  Greek  priest  in  holy  vesture. 

Papa  Evangelos  was  sleeping  unreser 
vedly.  Every  deep  sigh,  every  sonorous 
snore,  was  eloquent  of  oblivion.  In  Greece, 
between  one  and  four,  the  siesta  is  univer 
sal,  and  all  business  is  suspended;  people 
even  cease  dying  and  being  born  during 
those  hours. 

Kotsas  looked  into  the  house. 

Little  Yonko  and  the  papadia  (priest's 
wife)  were  sound  asleep  on  a  blanket 
stretched  on  the  floor.  Their  heads  were 
together,  and  their  bodies  formed  a  right 
angle.  Under  an  oak  tree  before  the  house 
stood  the  donkey.  He  had  forgotten  his  hay 
and  was  nodding.  Somewhere  near  a  turtle 
dove  cooed,  and  its  voice  sounded  far  off. 

"  I  say,"  said  Kotsas,  sliding  down  by 
the  side  of  the  tree,  "let's  take  a  nap. 
Nobody  works  at  this  hour  of  the  day." 

Anastasi  made  no  reply  for  a  moment. 
He  listened  to  the  lullabys  of  nature,  and 


20 


Father  Anthony 

was  strongly  tempted.  Then  he  felt  the 
great  book  under  his  arm,  and  thought 
of  Father  Anthony. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  "one  of  St.  Anthony's 
greatest  virtues  was  wakefulness.  He  slept 
only  two  or  three  hours  out  of  the  twenty- 
four.  My  time  is  almost  come  to  go  into 
the  wilderness  and  be  a  saint,  and  fight 
with  dragons,  lions,  and  elephants.  To-day 
I  think  I  will  show  you  the  cavern  where 
I  am  to  live." 

Kotsas  rose  to  his  feet,  his  big  eyes  wide 
with  interest.  In  his  excitement  he  pulled 
a  piece  of  black  bread  from  his  shirt  and 
'bit  off  a  mouthful. 

"Won't  you  be  afraid?"  he  asked,  his 
utterance  thick  with  food. 

"Oh,  thou  of  little  faith!"  exclaimed 
Anastasi;  "all  a  saint  has  to  do  when  the 
evil  one  gets  too  strong  for  him  is  to  make 
the  sign  of  the  cross.  Then  all  the  devils 
and  wild  animals  either  run  away  or  fall 
down  and  worship  him." 


The  Tempting  of 

"  I  think  I  '11  go  and  be  a  saint,  too," 
said  Kotsas. 

"You?  Pooh!  Could  you  live  alone  in 
the  woods,  go  without  sleep,  and  eat  once 
every  two  days?" 

"  Don't  saints  eat  any  oftener  than 
that?" 

"  Of  course  not,  you  ninny.  Fasting  is 
one  of  the  first  principles  of  holiness.  The 
less  a  saint  eats  the  holier  he  is." 

"Then  I  think  I'll  be  something  else," 
said  Kotsas,  taking  another  bite  of  bread. 

Anastasi  untied  the  nodding  donkey  and 
the  two  boys  mounted  him.  They  took  a 
little  path  that  ran  around  the  dry  hill,  like 
the  thread  of  a  screw.  High  above  them, 
to  the  left,  towered  the  acropolis  of  ancient 
Trcezen.  The  temple  that  crowned  the 
summit  is  gone,  yet  the  great  rock  stands 
there  unchanged  and  unchangeable.  The 
true  God  builded  so  much  better  than  the 
false. 

They    passed    through    a    pine    grove. 


Father  Anthony 


Here  the  air  was  fragrant  and  drowsy,  and 
the  fallen  pine  spindles  were  piled  up  in 
the  shade  into  fragrant  couches.  Innumer 
able  cicadas  rasped  monotonously. 

Kotsas  slid  limply  from  the  donkey.  "I 
must  sleep,"  said  he. 

Anastasi  called  to  his  fallen  comrade, 
but  received  no  reply. 

"Kotsas!  Kotsas!"  The  shout  seemed 
to  produce  a  slight  consciousness,  which 
only  resulted  in  the  sleeper's  rolling  into  a 
more  comfortable  position.  The  left  arm 
was  bent  and  the  head  lolled  over  it.  The 
right  leg  was  drawn  up  and  the  left  was 
straight  out. 

Kotsas  drew  in  deep  breaths,  and  let 
them  out  again  in  long  sighs.  His  mouth 
was  open. 

"  It  makes  me  sleepy  to  look  at  him," 
said  Anastasi.  "  But  how  shall  I  triumph 
over  lions  and  elephants  if  I  cannot  con 
quer  my  own  flesh?" 

Looking  about  with  heavy  eyes,  he  saw 
23 


The  Tempting  of 

a  thistle  but  a  little  way  off.  Springing  to 
the  ground,  he  ran  to  it  and  cut  off  a  sprig 
with  his  hatchet.  Twisting  it  around  on 
the  inside  of  his  hat,  he  jammed  the  latter 
resolutely  on  his  head;  but  immediately  he 
snatched  it  off  again  and  threw  it  on  the 
ground. 

"Ouch!"    he  screamed.     "Ouch!   ouch! 
ouch!     Holy  Virgin!    Oh,  my  poor  head!" 

He  put  his  fingers  to  his  forehead,  and 
when  he  drew  them  away  they  were  stained 
with  blood. 

"  I  cannot  begin  crucifying  the  flesh 
yet,"  muttered  Anastasi.  "A  saint  must 
be  further  advanced  than  I  am  before  he 
begins  to  do  that.  Phew!  how  my  head 
hurts.  But  how  could  I  stand  it  to  be  hided 
by  devils,  like  St.  Anthony  was,  if  a  com 
mon  donkey  thistle  makes  me  scream?  I 
must  do  penance.  I'll  let  Kotsas  sleep 
while  I  cut  all  the  thyme  myself." 

Leaving  the  donkey  in  the  shade,  the 
would-be  saint  went  further  up  the  moun- 

24 


Father  Anthony 

tain  side,  hatchet  in  hand,  and  attacked  the 
wild  thyme  with  a  will.  For  two  long  hours 
he  worked  in  the  broiling  sun,  cutting  the 
green  twigs  and  piling  them  in  a  heap.  He 
returned  at  last  exhausted,  but  triumphant, 
to  where  his  young  friend  lay  sleeping. 
After  a  vigorous  shaking,  Kotsas  awoke. 

The  cicadas  had  ceased  their  singing  and 
a  fresher  breeze  was  stirring  in  the  pines. 
It  made  a  low,  aeolian  murmur  in  the 
branches. 

Kotsas  sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes. 

"Where  am  I?"  he  yawned.  "Oh,  I 
remember  now.  Hello!  Anastasi;  we  came 
to  cut  thymari,  didn't  we?  Holy  Virgin!" 
springing  to  his  feet,  "  I'll  warrant  it's  five 
o'clock.  We  must  hurry  or  we'll  both  eat 
wood  (get  a  whipping).  How  hungry  I 
am."  Out  came  the  chunk  of  bread. 

'The  wood  is  all  chopped,"  said  Anas 
tasi,  solemnly.  "  While  you've  been  sleep 
ing,  I've  been  at  work.  Come  and  help  me 
tie  it  on  the  mule,  and  then  I'll  show  you 

25 


The  Tempting  of 

the  cavern  where  I'm  to  live  in  the  wilder 
ness." 

"The  wood's  all  chopped!"  exclaimed 
Kotsas,  through  his  mouthful  of  bread. 
"  Anastasi,  you're  beginning  to  be  a  saint 
already." 

The  donkey  was  untethered  and  led  to 
the  brush,  which  was  quickly  tied  into  two 
immense  bundles  and  hung  onto  the  ani 
mal's  back,  a  bundle  on  each  side;  after 
which  he  was  again  tied  in  the  shade,  and 
the  two  boys  set  off  briskly  in  search  of  the 
cavern. 

Not  far  from  the  pine  grove  a  ravine 
cut  deep  into  the  mountain  side.  Higher 
up  it  divided  into  several  gullies  that  spread 
out  like  the  fingers  of  a  hand.  Through 
these  water  poured  down  in  winter,  filling 
the  ravine  with  a  roaring  torrent,  that  raced 
across  the  valley  below,  and  plunged  madly 
into  the  ocean.  In  summer,  numerous  little 
springs  sent  their  cool  streams  into  the  ra 
vine,  and  water  trickled  down  its  rocky 

26 


Father  Anthony 

sides.  The  river  then  became  a  rivulet. 
Now  that  the  afternoon  sun  was  upon  it, 
like  a  golden  serpent  the  brook  writhed 
across  the  plain  to  the  sea,  its  waves  shining 
in  the  light  like  scales. 

High  up  the  ravine  Anastasi  pointed  to 
a  cavern  in  one  of  its  steep  sides.  Only  the 
mouth  was  visible  and  this  was  curtained  by 
overhanging  fern. 

'  There  it  is,"  said  he,  immediately  be 
ginning  the  ascent  of  the  rocky  wall.  Kotsas 
was  greatly  excited. 

"  Come  down,  my  brother,  come  down!  " 
he  cried.  "  Have  you  lost  your  senses?" 

Anastasi  was  but  half  way  up.  He  looked 
like  a  sprawling  bas-relief,  or  a  grotesque 
figure  in  a  frieze.  He  was  bending  forward, 
seizing  a  bush  with  both  his  hands.  One 
foot  rested  firmly  upon  a  projection,  and 
the  other  was  reaching  out  in  search  of  a 
new  hold,  higher  up,  giving  him  the  atti 
tude  of  a  runner.  The  ascent  of  the  wall 
looked  more  difficult  than  it  actually  was, 

27 


The  Tempting  of 

for  Anastasi  did  not  go  up  in  a  straight  line. 
He  had  laid  out  a  route  of  bushes  and  foot 
holds  that  ran  obliquely  off  to  the  right  and 
back  again  to  the  mouth  of  the  cavern.  In 
a  very  short  time  he  was  standing  below 
the  opening,  his  toes  in  a  convenient  hole. 
He  parted  the  ferns,  bent  far  in,  evidently 
for  the  purpose  of  getting  a  good  grip  on 
something,  and  then  scrambled  out  of 
sight. 

"Come  back,  Anastasi,  come  back!" 
shouted  Kotsas. 

A  serious  face  divided  the  curtain  of 
ferns,  and  peeped  through. 

"Do  you  think,"  said  its  possessor,  "that 
St.  Anthony  ever  had  a  better  cave  than 
this?" 

"What's  in  it?"  asked  Kotsas. 

"  Oh,  a  big  room,  and  a  little  one  off 
from  it.  In  the  big  room  I  shall  fight  the 
devils,  and  if  at  any  time  they  get  too  many 
for  me,  I  shall  go  into  the  little  room  and 

pray.    I  shall  hang  a  cross  over  the  entrance 

28 


Father  Anthony 


to  the  little  room,  so  that  they  can't  come 
in." 

Anastasi  was  now  sitting  in  the  entrance 
of  the  cave,  with  his  feet  hanging  over. 

"What'llyouliveon?" 

"  St.  Anthony's  helper  brought  him 
bread  every  other  day.  You  shall  do  the 
same  for  me.  Then,  when  I  need  strength, 
I  shall  find  crabs  in  the  brook,  and  shall 
roast  them  on  the  sand." 

"  Roast  crabs  are  pretty  good  eating," 
observed  Kotsas,  smacking  his  lips. 

Anastasi  did  not  deign  to  notice  this  last 
remark.  He  had  already  commenced  the 
descent,  which  was  much  more  difficult  than 
the  going  up.  On  the  way  home,  the 
priest's  son  more  fully  outlined  his  plans, 
and  gave  his  final  directions.  The  precious 
book  had  been  left  concealed  in  the  ravine, 
as  the  time  of  Anastasi's  sanctification  was 
near  at  hand. 

"  When    St.    Anthony    went     into     the 

wilderness,"    said    he,    "  he   gave    all    that 

29 


The  Tempting  of 

he  possessed  unto  the  poor.  He  was  rich, 
but  I  have  nothing  except  my  pet  kid. 
Still,  the  principle  is  the  same.  Who  is 
the  poorest  person  in  town,  Kotsas?" 

Kotsas  thought  over  the  matter  long 
and  carefully.  Nobody  in  the  little  com 
munity  was  rich,  yet  every  soul  had  shel 
ter,  food,  and  clothing,  a  state  of  affairs 
which  is  almost  universal  in  the  provinces 
of  Greece. 

After  much  discussion,  old  Nestor  Tom- 
basi  was  fixed  upon  to  be  the  recipient  of 
the  kid.  He  was  ninety  years  of  age,  bald 
as  a  melon,  and  wrinkled  like  a  country 
cheese.  The  last  member  of  his  family 
had  died  twenty  years  ago,  and  for  fifteen 
at  least  he  had  sat  day  after  day  in  front 
of  a  little  coffee-house  facing  the  square. 
He  had  been  seized  with  delirium  tremens 
several  times,  and  his  hand  shook  so  that 
he  could  no  longer  lift  a  drinking  cup  to 
his  lips.  When  he  ordered  resin  wine, 
which  was  of  frequent  occurrence,  a  boy 

3° 


Father  Anthony 


always  turned  the  beverage  down  the  old 
man's  throat.  His  teeth  were  still  white 
and  strong,  and  the  shaking  of  his  head 
caused  the  tumbler  to  rattle  against  them 
as  he  drank. 

The  popular  fallacy  that  age  brings  wis 
dom  prevails  in  Damala  as  elsewhere,  and 
Nestor's  utterances  were  listened  to  with 
great  respect.  His  name  should  have  been 
Thersites,  for  he  had  a  bitter  tongue,  and 
delighted  in  comparing  the  present  gen 
eration  with  the  youth  of  his  own  day, 
much  to  the  former's  disadvantage.  When 
on  this  subject  words  often  failed  him,  and 
he  would  sit  for  half  an  hour  snorting 
contemptuously. 

"I  don't  know  that  he's  so  very  poor," 
said  Kotsas;  "he  drinks  more  wine  than 
any  two  other  men  in  the  village,  and  he 
always  seems  to  pay  for  it." 

"That's  so,"  argued  Anastasi,  "but  he 
may  have  only  a  little  money  after  all. 
Besides,  he  is  the  oldest  man  in  Damala. 


The  Tempting  of 

If  he  should  become  destitute,  he 's  too 
old  to  work.  I  must  give  my  kid  to  some 
body.  No  saint  ever  commenced  without 
giving  all  he  had  unto  the  poor.  That 
was  the  first  thing  St.  Anthony  did." 

"Won't  your  mother  worry  about  you?  " 
asked  Kotsas. 

"I  suppose  so.  But  it'll  be  no  worse 
for  my  mother  than  it  was  for  St.  An 
thony's  sister.  The  devil  worried  him  ter 
ribly  about  his  sister,  especially  when  he 
was  giving  all  his  property  to  the  poor. 
But  a  saint  can  't  trouble  about  such  things. 
He  must  go  right  on  fighting  the  devil,  and 
let  the  Lord  take  care  of  his  relatives." 

"How  wise  and  good  you  are,"  said 
Kotsas,  taking  a  bite  of  bread. 


Father  Anthony 


II. 

^  I  ^  WO  days  later  Anastasi  departed 
-*•  quietly  for  the  cave,  taking  a  loaf 
of  bread  under  his  arm.  With  the  excep 
tion  of  the  faithful  Kotsas,  he  had  in 
formed  no  one  of  his  intention,  although 
he  had  somewhat  mystified  the  family  on 
the  morning  of  his  departure  by  an  ex 
traordinary  outburst  of  affection. 

Anastasi's  mother  was  a  woman  of  mag 
nificent  physique.  She  wore  next  to  her 
body  a  garment  that  was  a  combination 
of  chemise  in  its  upper  portion  and  of  nar 
row  skirt  below.  The  chemise  part  was 
generally  unbuttoned,  partially  exposing 
an  expansive  bosom  of  snowy  whiteness, 
contrasting  strangely  with  the  brownness 
of  her  wrinkled,  masculine  face.  Over 
this  garment  came  a  long,  sleeveless  coat 
of  white  homespun,  coarsely  embroidered 

33 


The  Tempting  of 

about  the  edges.  The  papadia  (priest's 
wife)  wore  a  handkerchief  tied  over  her 
ears,  and  when  she  did  not  go  barefoot, 
she  thrust  her  toes  into  slippers  that  were 
cut  down  even  with  the  sole  back  of  the 
instep.  These  were  so  convenient  that 
she  could  step  into  them  without  pausing 
when  they  lay  in  her  path,  and  the  slightest 
kick  served  to  remove  them. 

"  I  wonder  where  Anastasi  is?"  said  the 
priest,  looking  wistfully  at  the  dinner  table, 
the  noon  of  the  boy's  departure. 

The  board  had  been  spread  out  of  doors, 
in  the  shade  of  the  house,  and  a  particularly 
tempting  repast  was  about  to  be  brought 
on:  goat's  head,  wild  greens,  home-made 
bread,  resin  wine,  figs  from  the  tree — does 
the  king  fare  better?  If  he  does,  let  us 
wish  him  a  good  appetite  and  a  careless 
heart.  Little  Perikles  was  sent  to  call  his 
brother,  but  soon  returned  announcing  that 
he  had  sought  for  him  through  the  whole 
world  in  vain. 

34 


Father  Anthony 

"Let's  not  wait,  my  papadia,"  said  the 
priest,  pettishly,  for  a  roguish  wind  had 
flirted  in  his  face  a  whiff  from  the  kettle. 

"Who  knows  where  the  boy  is?  Put 
him  aside  a  portion  and  let  him  eat  his 
dinner  cold." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  come  to  some  harm," 
suggested  the  anxious  mother.  "  He  may 
have  fallen  down  a  rock  and  broken  his  leg. 
He  may  have  gone  down  to  the  sea  with 
that  fat  little  Kotsas  and  got  drowned " 

"Poh!  poh!  poh!  my  papadia.  The  Holy 
Virgin  will  look  after  him.  Besides,  it's  not 
time  to  begin  worrying  yet.  Bring  on  the 
head." 

"We  have  never  eaten  without  him 
before,"  said  the  priest's  wife,  setting  the 
grinning  head  on  the  table,  "  except  that 
time  when  he  took  a  donkey  load  of  figs 
and  four  dozen  eggs  to  Poros  for  me  and 
the  demarch's  wife,  to  sell  to  the  Russian 
steamboats.  Then  he  did  n't  come  back 
because  his  change  was  short  one  and  one- 

35 


The  Tempting  of 

half  cents,  and  it  took  him  all  day  to  find 
the  man  he  sold  the  things  to." 

By  way  of  saying  grace,  the  priest  de 
voutly  crossed  himself  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  followed  his  example. 

"  He  has  a  brain,"  said  the  good  man, 
spearing  a  goat  eye  with  his  fork  and  con 
veying  the  delicate  morsel  to  his  mouth, 
"  and  can  take  care  of  himself,  wherever  he 
is.  Here,  papadia,  take  this  and  cheer  up," 
offering  her  the  other  eye.  This  was  an 
unusual  gallantry,  for  the  two  choicest  mor 
sels  belonged  by  tacit  consent  of  all  to  the 
head  of  the  house.  The  good  wife  bright 
ened  up  in  spite  of  herself,  and  for  the 
moment  forgot  her  forebodings. 

"  What  a  fortunate  thing  it  is—-"  observed 
Papa  Evangelos,  smacking  his  lips  to  get 
the  full  benefit  of  the  tidbit  before  com 
mencing  on  the  coarser  food  —  "what  a 
fortunate  thing  it  is  that  a  goat  has  two 
eyes!  In  this  very  circumstance  can  the 
devout  mind  see  evidences  of  Divine  Provi- 

36 


Father  Anthony 


dence.  A  goat  could  have  seen  quite  well 
with  one  eye,  but  the  Creator  has  given  him 
two,  in  order  that  we  may  have  two  of  these 
dainty  morsels  with  our  dinner  instead  of 
one." 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  good  papa 
was  a  theologian  of  no  mean  rank,  as  well 
as  a  deep  philosopher. 

"  If  that 's  why  a  goat  has  two  eyes,  why 

did  n't  the  Lord  give  him  half  a  dozen  while 

he    was    about  it?"    asked    little    Perikles. 

'Then  maybe  I'd  get  one  once  in  awhile." 

"Silence,  sir!"  thundered  his  father. 
"  You  are  too  young  to  understand  the 
ology." 

While  taking  his  black  coffee,  the  priest 
once  or  twice  spoke  of  Anastasi,  but  he  had 
no  sooner  lighted  his  cigarette  than  all  care 
vanished  from  his  mind.  Seen  through  its 
bluish-gray  smoke,  the  world  became  fan 
tastic,  confused.  As  the  soothing  weed 
gradually  overcame  him,  human  sounds 
died  out  of  his  consciousness  until  he  heard 

37 


The  Tempting  of 

only  the  golden  choir  of  wasps  and  honey 
bees,  and  the  harping  cicadas,  harping  far 
away.  With  a  sigh  he  threw  himself  upon 
the  stone  bench,  and  the  kitten,  which  was 
rolling  a  bone  under  the  table,  ran  to  play 
with  his  swaying  robes. 

"  Perikles!  Perikles!  "  called  the  papadia, 
softly,  "go  and  see  if  you  can  find  any 
thing  of  your  brother.  That's  a  dear." 

"  But  where  will  I  look,  mother?  I  have 
hunted  through  the  whole  world  now." 

"  Run  over  and  see  that  little  imp  Kot- 
sas.  If  Anastasi  is  up  to  any  mischief, 
Kotsas  will  know  of  it." 

In  a  few  minutes  Perikles  returned. 

"Well?"  said  his  mother. 

"  Kotsas  would  n't  tell  me  anything.  I 
think  he  knows  something,  though.  He 
looked  mighty  knowing." 

"Where  was  old  Karoyanni?" 

"I  didn't  see  him;  but  I  heard  him 
snoring  up  on  the  balcony." 

The  papadia  sighed.     Kuria  Karoyanni 
38 


Father  Anthony 


did  not  have  much  control  over  her  son. 
The  demarch  could  make  him  talk  quickly 
enough;  but  there  was  no  hope  of  seeing 
the  old  gentleman  earlier  than  four.  On 
no  pretext  must  a  person  be  wakened  in 
Greece  during  his  siesta.  He  must  be 
considered  as  having  ceased  to  exist  for 
the  time  being.  Nevertheless  the  papadia 
dropped  her  dish-cloth  and  ran  over  to 
the  demarch's  house.  As  she  expected, 
she  found  Mrs.  Karoyanni  still  busy  with 
her  dishes. 

"Oh,  Marigo!"  cried  the  priest's  wife, 
breathlessly.  "What  do  you  think,  my 
Anastasi  did  not  come  home  to  dinner, 
and  I  am  afraid  something  dreadful  has 
happened  to  him?  Do  call  Kotsas  and 
let 's  ask  him  where  Anastasi  is.  Those 
boys  are  such  friends.  They  know  all 
about  each  other." 

"  Kotsas!  Kotsas!  Durs  n't  call  him  very 
loud  for  fear  of  waking  his  father.  My 
Kotsas!  Where  is  that  wretch?  Wait  till 

39 


The  Tempting  of 

I  get  hold  of  him.  I  '11  pull  up  his  ears 
by  the  roots  —  dear  little  Kotsas!  " 

Kotsas  was  found  on  the  further  side 
of  the  house,  fast  asleep  in  the  shade. 
His  mother  seized  him  by  the  ear  and 
gave  a  vigorous  yank.  Had  not  the  ear 
been  previously  toughened  by  much  yank 
ing,  it  would  no  doubt  have  torn  loose. 
Many  Greek  mothers  are  ignorant  of  the 
physiological  use  of  the  external  portion 
of  the  ear,  and  suppose  it  designed  by  a 
wise  Providence  as  a  thing  to  be  yanked. 

Kotsas  started  to  his  feet  with  a  howl 
of  pain;  but  seeing  that  he  had  only  his 
mother  to  deal  with,  he  retreated  to  a 
safe  distance. 

"Why  didn't  you  answer  me,  you  vil 
lain?  Where's  Anastasi?  Come,  speak  up 
now,  or  I'll  hit  you  a  bat  that'll  make 
the  priest  look  like  a  spinning- whorl  to 
you." 

Kotsas  edged  a  little  further  away. 

"Do    you    know    where    Anastasi    is?" 
4o 


Father  Anthony 


asked  the  papadia.  "  Come,  now,  that 's 
a  good  fellow.  The  next  honey-cakes  I 
bake,  you  shall  help  us  eat  them." 

Kotsas  looked  greedy,  but  there  is  honor 
among  boys,  as  among  thieves.  He  did 
not  think,  without  his  friend's  consent, 
that  he  ought  to  reveal  the  locality  of  the 
cave. 

"Anastasi  has  gone  to  be  a  saint," 
said  he. 

"  Gone  to  be  a  saint!  "  cried  both  women. 

"  Hear  the  boy!  "  exclaimed  one. 

"  Have  you  gone  crazy  ? "  asked  the 
other. 

"No,  indeed;  he  has  gone  off  like  St. 
Anthony  to  live  in  the  wilderness  and  to 
fight  with  lions,  elephants,  bulls,  and  devils." 

"Holy  Mother!"  screamed  the  papadia. 
"But  where?  Where?" 

"I  —  don't  —  know,"  stammered  Kotsas. 

"I'll  make  you  know,  you  rogue!" 
shrieked  his  mother,  picking  up  a  stick 
and  making  a  lunge  for  the  boy.  Kotsas 

41 


The  Tempting  of 

took  to  his  heels.  The  last  thing  he  heard 
was  his  mother's  voice,  crying,  "Wait  till 
your  father  wakes  up!  He'll  feed  you 
wood!  He'll  give  you  forty  blows,  less 
one!" 

"Can't  we  wake  up  his  honor  now?" 
suggested  the  papadia. 

"  Holy  Mother,  it  would  be  as  much 
as  my  life  is  worth.  He  would  n't  wake 
up  now  to  save  Kotsas  from  drowning." 


Father  Anthony 


III. 

KOTSAS  went  immediately  in  search 
of  the  kid. 

"I'd  better  get  it  to  old  Nestor  before 
my  father  wakes  up,"  he  said,  "or  he'll 
put  a  stop  to  the  whole  business." 

The  animal,  which  was  as  confiding  as 
a  child,  recognized  its  master's  friend  and 
followed  him,  bleating  and  shaking  its 
stumpy  tail. 

By  the  time  Kotsas  arrived  in  the  square, 
Nestor  had  sought  his  accustomed  place, 
and  was  just  in  the  act  of  taking  his  first 
afternoon  drink.  Kotsas,  before  he  turned 
the  corner  of  the  house,  could  hear  the 
old  man's  teeth  ringing  against  the  glass 
like  ice  in  a  pitcher. 

"I  have  brought  you  this  kid,"  said  the 
boy;  "  it  belonged  to  Anastasi,  and  he  told 
me  to  give  it  to  you." 

43 


The  Tempting  of 

The  old  man  raised  his  shaking  head 
and  gave  vent  to  a  sharp  interrogative 
"Eh?"  Kotsas  felt  his  courage  oozing  out 
of  his  toes,  but  he  put  on  a  bold  front. 

"  Here's  Anastasi's  kid,  which  he  said  I 
was  to  give  to  you." 

"What  monkey  shine  is  this?"  asked 
Nestor,  irrascibly.  "  Don't  you  come  any  of 
your  tricks  on  me,  you  little  bladder-of- 
lard!  I'll  tell  your  father  of  you,  and  the 
demarch  will  have  to  order  his  own  son 
thrashed.  Have  you  no  shame,  to  insult 
gray  hairs? " 

As  the  patriarch  had  gradually  raised 
his  voice  to  a  shrill  scream,  ten  or  twelve 
people  immediately  ran  to  the  spot,  crying 
breathlessly,  all  together:  "What  is  it?" 
"What's  running?"  "What's  in  the  wind?" 
So  peaceful  is  life  in  the  Greek  villages  that 
the  least  excitement  calls  together  a  crowd 
instantly.  At  such  times  men,  women,  and 
children  appear  as  if  by  magic,  their  very 
souls  sitting  in  their  eyes  and  gazing. 


Father  Anthony 


When  there  is  the  slightest  thing  to  be 
heard  or  seen,  spectators  spring  from  the 
ground  like  warriors  from  dragon's  teeth. 
Kotsas  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  throng, 
trembling,  holding  the  kid  by  one  long 
silken  ear.  He  looked  about  for  sympathy 
or  assistance,  but  saw  nothing  except  de 
vouring  curiosity. 

"  Anastasi's  gone  to  be  a  saint,"  he  blub 
bered,  "  and  he  wanted  to  divide  his  earthly 
goods  among  the  poor.  He  ain't  got  noth 
ing  but  this  kid,  and  we  decided  to  give  it 
to  old  Nestor,  'cause  he's  the  poorest  man 
in  the  village." 

This  announcement  affected  the  specta 
tors  variously.  Several  touched  their  heads 
significantly,  others  shouted  with  laughter, 
but  the  greater  portion  continued  to  stare, 
because  they  had  not  understood.  But 
something  genuinely  exciting  now  hap 
pened.  Old  Nestor  had  comprehended 
perfectly  the  last  part  of  the  explanation. 
His  face  turned  so  purple  that  he  seemed 

45 


The  Tempting  of 

about  to  expire  of  apoplexy.  With  con 
siderable  difficulty  he  rose  to  his  feet;  then, 
swinging  his  long  cane  in  the  air,  he  brought 
it  down  upon  the  shoulders  of  poor  Kotsas 
with  a  resounding  thwack.  He  trembled 
so  with  palsy  and  rage  that  the  stick  de 
scended  zigzag,  like  jagged  lightning 
flashes. 

"  I'm  the  poorest  man  (whack)  in  town, 
am  I  (whack)?  You  villain  (whack)! 
You  scum  (whack)!"  But  the  boy  by 
this  time  had  broken  through  the  ring  of 
spectators,  and  taken  to  his  heels,  yelling 
vigorously. 

Nestor  seized  the  cane  in  his  left  hand, 
and,  raising  his  right,  suddenly  opened  it, 
the  fingers  spread,  the  palm  turned  toward 
the  flying  boy.  Several  times  he  drew  the 
hand  back  and  thrust  it  forward  again,  say 
ing,  "  Nah!  nah!"  with  great  impressive- 
ness.  Then  he  sat  down  again. 

'  The  devil  take  his  father!  "  he  gasped. 
'  The  devil  take  his  grandfather!  Bring 
46 


Father  Anthony 

me  some  wine,  quick!  The  poorest  man  in 
Damala,  eh?  The  devil  take  his  whole 
family!  "  Never  before  had  his  teeth  so 
rattled  against  the  wine-glass,  and  he  did 
not  cease  snorting  for  an  hour. 


47 


The  Tempting  of 


IV. 

KOTSAS  hurried  straight  to  the  ama 
teur  hermit's  cave. 

Some  blackened  olive  brands  still  smok 
ing  on  the  sands,  together  with  the  remains 
of  a  roasted  crab,  showed  him  that  Anastasi 
had  been  dining. 

"Anastasi!  Anastasi!"  he  called  re 
peatedly,  but  not  till  he  had  nearly  shouted 
himself  hoarse,  and  had  whistled  shrilly 
through  his  ringers  several  times,  did  he 
succeed  in  arousing  his  friend. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  a  voice 
from  the  depths  of  the  cave. 

"  Come  out  here  till  I  talk  to  you.  I  've 
something  important  to  say.  There's  been 
a  terrible  row  since  you  went  away.  I  'm 
in  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish  through  this  fool 
ishness  of  yours." 

"Who  are  you?" 


Father  Anthony 


"Oh,  brother,  you  know  who  I  am  well 

enough.     I  'm  Kotsas,  and  I  want  to  talk  to 

i? 
you. 

The  mayor's  son  waited  some  time  in 
silence,  but  to  his  surprise  there  was  no 
response  from  the  cave. 

"Anastasi!  Anastasi!  are  you  coming 
down?" 

A  deep  voice  issued  from  above:  "  'Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan.'  I  suspect  that  thou 
art  the  devil  come  in  the  form  of  my  friend 
Kotsas  to  tempt  me.  He  was  to  come  to 
morrow  with  the  bread." 

"  In  the  name  of  heaven,  Anastasi, 
come  out  and  look.  I  ain't  the  devil.  I  'm 
Kotsas,  and  I  must  get  back  soon  or  my 
father  '11  break  every  bone  in  my  body. 
They're  going  to  look  for  you  and  bring 
you  home,  and  he '11  thrash  me  till  I  tell 
them  where  you  are." 

A  thin,  handsome  face  pushed  through 
the  curtain  of  ferns,  and  two  brown  eyes 
looked  cautiously  down. 

49 


The  Tempting  of 

"  I  '11  talk  with  you  from  here,"  said 
Anastasi.  "The  devil  is  very  cunning, 
and  I  must  keep  on  my  guard." 

"  I  tell  you  I  ain't  no  devil.  Look  here, 
now,  you'll  have  to  get  somebody  else  to 
help  you  in  this  saint  business.  You  eat 
roast  crabs  and  I  eat  wood.  When  I  offered 
your  kid  to  old  Nestor,  because  he  was  the 
poorest  man  in  Damala,  he  came  to  life 
and  nearly  murdered  me.  You  're  doing 
more  harm  than  good.  I  had  to  lie  to  my 
mother  and  say  I  didn't  know  where  you 
were,  and  when  father  sees  me  he'll  kill  me 
if  I  don't  show  him  where  you  are.  The 
whole  village '11  be  out  here." 

"  You  must  n't  tell  where  I  am  at  pres 
ent,  Kotsas;  when  the  village  gets  ready  to 
come  and  do  me  honor,  then  will  be  time 
enough  for  them  to  know." 

"Father '11  thrash  me  till  I  do  tell." 

"  But  that  won't  hurt  your  soul,  Kotsas. 
A  true  saint  fears  only  things  that  hurt  his 

soul." 

5° 


Father  Anthony 

"  But  I  ain't  no  saint.  Besides,  you  never 
was  licked  by  my  father.  He  could  make 
old  St.  Anthony  himself  holler." 

Anastasi  thought  very  fast.  He  did  not 
wish  to  be  taken  back  immediately  to  the 
village  and  made  a  butt  of  ridicule.  The 
longer  he  stayed  out  in  the  wilderness  the 
more  importance  would  his  adventure  as 
sume.  He  was  fully  determined  to  become 
a  saint,  and  he  must  show  right  from  the 
start  that  he  was  in  earnest.  If  Kotsas  went 
back  now,  in  less  than  two  hours  the  village 
would  be  at  the  cave,  and  he  would  not  be 
allowed  to  remain  a  single  night  in  the  wil 
derness.  His  first  impulse  was  to  say  to 
Kotsas:  "  If  you  tell  where  I  am  before  to 
morrow  I  '11  thrash  you  twice  as  hard  as 
your  father  does."  But  he  immediately  dis 
missed  the  thought  as  unworthy  a  saint. 
Then  there  flashed  through  his  head  words 
that  he  had  heard  his  father  quote  from  the 
Evangelists:  "Be ye  as  wise  as  serpents  but 
harmless  as  doves."  He  could  not  remem- 

51 


The  Tempting  of 

her  exactly  where  they  occurred,  nor  under 
what  conditions  they  were  said,  but  he  was 
sure  the  words  were  intended  as  a  sort  of 
general  direction  for  the  conduct  of  saints. 
Immediately  his  plan  was  formed. 

"Kotsas!"  he  called.  "My  Kotsas, 
would  n't  you  like  to  see  the  inside  of  the 
cave?" 

;<  Yes,"  replied  the  mayor's  son,  eagerly. 
"  But  I  can  't  climb  up;  I  'm  too  fat." 

"  I  '11  fix  that.  I  've  got  an  easy  way  to 
come  up." 

"  How  about  coming  down?" 

"  It 's  just  as  easy.  Wait  till  I  show  you." 

"Honest?" 

"  Honest.     A  saint  can  speak  no  lies." 

With  that  Anastasi  let  fall  from  the 
cave  a  long  grape-vine,  one  end  of  which 
was  fastened  about  a  rocky  projection 
within. 

"There,"  he  said;  "you  just  dig  your 
toes  into  the  rough  places  and  come  up  the 
vine  hand  over  hand.  You  can  slide  down 

52 


Father  Anthony 

when  you  want  to  leave.     God  did  n't  give 
us  brains  for  nothing." 

Kotsas  could  do  that.  It  is  a  poor  speci 
men  of  a  boy  who  cannot  climb  a  rope, 
especially  when  there  is  a  mysterious  cave 
at  the  other  end.  In  a  very  few  seconds  he 
had  clambered  through  the  fern  curtain, 
and  stood  puffing  by  Anastasi's  side. 

"Holy  Mother,  but  it's  a  wonderful 
place!"  he  exclaimed. 

'This  cavern  will  be  famous  one  day  as 
the  dwelling  place  of  Saint  Anastasi,"  said 
the  priest's  son;  "and  you,  Kotsas,  will  be 
proud  to  say  that  you  have  been  in  it  with 
me." 

"  Hello,  what's  that?  "  cried  Kotsas.  He 
had  heard  a  sound  as  though  something 
had  slid  down  the  wall  of  the  ravine  and 
dropped  on  the  sand  below. 

"  I  let  the  vine  go,"  explained  Anastasi. 
'  You  must  stay  here  until  I  get  ready  to 
let  you  go." 

In  vain   Kotsas  begged  and  prayed  and 

53 


The  Tempting  of 

wept.  He  hung  out  of  the  cavern's  mouth 
and  tried  to  crawl  down,  but  his  legs  were 
too  short  to  reach  the  first  hole,  and  he 
lacked  courage.  He  threatened  to  jump 
out  and  break  his  bones,  but  all  to  no  avail. 
Finally  he  sat  down  in  the  corner,  took  his 
chunk  of  bread  from  his  bosom,  and,  weep 
ing  silently,  ate.  Thus  he  fell  asleep. 


54 


Father  Anthony 


V. 


WHILE  Kotsas  slept  came  Anastasi's 
first  temptation.  At  the  other 
side  of  the  ravine,  though  at  a  consider 
able  distance  lower  down  the  mountain, 
there  were  a  number  of  large  vineyards. 
In  the  center  of  each  of  these,  or  in  a 
commanding  position,  was  the  brush  cabin 
of  the  watcher — four  piles  set  at  the  cor 
ner  of  a  square,  and  thatched  with  prun- 
ings  from  the  vines.  These  primitive  houses 
really  have  two  stories.  During  the  day 
the  occupants  sit  on  the  grass  in  the  shadow 
of  the  thatch,  but  at  night  they  sleep  on  a 
platform  several  feet  from  the  ground. 
Often  the  watchers  have  their  wives  and 
children  with  them,  and  the  families  pass 
two  or  three  months  very  pleasantly  in  the 
fields.  Now  it  so  happened  that  the  watch 
ers  who  dwelt  near  Anastasi's  cave  were 

ss 


The  Tempting  of 

in  the  habit  of  coming  to  the  ravine  for 
water,  which,  being  cold  and  pure,  was  prized 
for  miles  around. 

He  had  taken  up  the  "  Lives  of  the 
Saints"  again,  and  sitting  near  the  mouth 
of  the  cave,  was  reading  with  great  interest 
that  passage  which  describes  St.  Anthony's 
frequent  temptations  by  the  devil  in  the 
form  of  a  woman.  By  a  strange  coinci 
dence,  at  that  very  moment  he  heard  femi 
nine  voices  in  laughter  and  conversation. 
He  dropped  the  book. 

"Can  it  be?"  he  thought.  "This  was 
almost  the  first  of  Anthony's  temptations. 
Is  the  devil  to  begin  on  me  so  soon  in  the 
same  way?  If  so,  I  '11  show  him  that  he  has 
come  after  the  wrong  man." 

He  parted  the  curtain  and  peered  cau 
tiously  forth. 

"Pah!"  he  muttered;  "it's  only  two 
gardener's  wives  coming  after  water." 

What  he  saw,  indeed,  was  two  rather 
slovenly  looking  women,  one  young,  the 

56 


Father  Anthony 


other  about  forty  years  of  age.  The  elder 
was  fat,  the  other  was  about  to  become  a 
mother.  Both  wore  embroidered  yellow 
handkerchiefs  over  their  heads,  and  carried 
on  their  shoulders  huge  earthen  jugs,  of  the 
same  shape  which  the  woman  of  Samaria 
took  to  the  well.  They  filled  their  jugs  in 
the  deep,  cool  basin  just  below  Anastasi's 
eyrie,  chatting  of  simple  matters,  like  chil 
dren.  The  saint  took  up  his  book  in  dis 
gust  and  tried  to  read.  Then  he  laid  it 
down  again. 

"How  hard  it  is,"  he  said,  "to  find  a 
place  free  from  the  chatter  of  women. 
They  are  like  flies,  they  buzz  in  every  niche 
of  the  world." 

The  two  intruders  laved  their  faces  in 
the  limpid  pool,  and  drank  deeply  of  it. 
They  took  off  their  heavy  shoes,  bathed 
their  feet,  and  paddled  their  legs  in  it,  occa 
sionally  uttering  little  screams  of  delight. 

"  Elene,  can  you  swim?"  asked  the 
younger. 

57 


The  Tempting  of 

"  I  used  to,  when  I  was  a  girl.  I  've  for 
gotten  now.  Can  you?" 

"Me,  in  my  condition!  Are  you  crazy? 
But  I'd  just  like  to  take  off  my  things  and 
lie  down  in  it.  It's  so  delicious.  I  feel  as 
if  I  should  be  cool  for  a  week." 

"  Let's  do  it,"  said  Elene. 

Anastasi  gasped  with  astonishment  and 
perplexity.  He  retired  farther  back  into 
his  den  and  closed  his  eyes.  The  women 
were  strangers.  He  did  not  know  them. 
They  were  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  the 
cave.  He  might  look,  and  no  one  would 
be  the  wiser.  At  that  moment  he  heard  a 
splashing  in  the  water,  shrill  screams,  and 
laughter. 

"Is  it  cold,  my  Katina?" 

"  Like  ice." 

He  crawled  forward,  and  in  doing  so  his 
hand  hit  the  "  Lives  of  the  Saints."  It  was 
open  at  the  passage  which  he  had  just  been 
reading,  and  the  big  type,  so  familiar  to 
him,  was  legible  even  in  the  dim  light: 

58 


Father  Anthony 


"  And  the  devil  often  visited  St.  Anthony 
in  the  form  of  a  woman,  and  tempted 
him." 

It  all  came  over  Anastasi  like  a  flash. 

"They  are  devils,"  he  gasped.  Rising 
upon  his  knees,  he  threw  his  arms  in  the 
air  and  shouted:  "  I  know  you,  devils  that 
you  are!  Think  not  to  prevail  over  me. 
As  St.  Anthony  defied  you  in  Egypt,  so  do 
I  defy  you  in  Greece.  In  the  name  of  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  I  command 
you  to  be  gone.  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan. 
Avaunt!  " 

Loud  and  prolonged  screams  and  much 
floundering  followed  this  strange  abjurga- 
tion. 

"They  fly!  They  fly!"  yelled  Anastasi, 
and  in  an  exaltation  of  excitement  he 
poured  forth  the  catechism,  all  the  prayers 
he  knew,  and  a  page  or  two  from  the  "  Life 
of  St.  Anthony,"  crossing  himself  rapidly 
all  the  time. 

"  Holy  Mother!  "  gasped  Kotsas,  crawl- 

59 


The  Tempting  of 

ing  out  from  his  corner;  "Where  am  I? 
What's  the  matter?  Has  all  Damala  come 
after  us?" 

"  Devils — two  devils!  "  explained  Anas- 
tasi,  out  of  breath;  "but  I  conquered  them 
and  drove  them  away.  They  are  gone. 
They  are  vanished.  They  have  become 
invisible." 

"Are  you  sure?"  asked  Kotsas.  Long 
and  cautiously  he  peeped  from  the  cave. 
All  that  he  saw  was  a  yellow  handkerchief 
lying  on  the  sand. 

"  In  what  form  did  they  come?" 

"  As  they  came  to  St.  Anthony,  only 
there  were  two  of  them.  Two  beautiful 
women.  They  went  in  bathing  in  the 
pool." 

Kotsas  sprang  to  his  feet  and  danced 
about  in  great  excitement. 

"Let  me  down!  Let  me  down,  quick!" 
he  cried.  'They  were  nereids.  One  of 
them  left  her  veil  on  the  sand.  I  can  get 

it,  and  she  will  be  my  slave  for  life.    If  not, 

60 


Father  Anthony 


they  '11  come  back,  and  who  knows  what 
harm  they  may  do  us?  " 

Anastasi  looked.  The  belief  in  nereids 
is  widely  spread  in  Greece,  and  the  supersti 
tion  of  the  veil  is  universal  among  the  peo 
ple.  He  was  almost  persuaded  to  go  down, 
but  a  second  thought  saved  him:  What  did 
he,  a  saint,  want  of  a  nereid? 

"This,  too,  is  a  bait  of  the  devil,"  said 
he. 


61 


The  Tempting  of 


VI. 

THE  afternoon  wore  slowly  away.  At 
first  Kotsas  renewed  his  pleadings  to 
be  set  free,  but  finding  his  captor  inexora 
ble,  he  divided  the  time  between  sleeping 
and  wondering  what  punishment  the  de- 
march  would  mete  out  to  him.  The  place 
was  very  conducive  to  sleep.  The  cave  was 
cool  and  dim,  and  the  waters  ran  over  the 
rocks  below  with  a  ceaseless,  gurgling  sound. 
Anastasi  found  himself  yielding  to  the  influ 
ence.  From  time  to  time  the  letters  on  the 
page  which  he  was  reading  grew  enormously 
big;  then  they  all  ran  together,  as  though 
they  had  been  melted.  At  such  moments 
he  pinched  himself,  pulled  his  hair,  and 
knocked  his  head  with  doubled  fist.  To 
gain  greater  strength  he  turned  to  the  pas 
sage  which  described  St.  Anthony's  watch 
fulness. 

62 


Father  Anthony 


"  In  watchfulness,"  he  read,  "  he  was 
most  wonderful,  since  he  watched  all  the 
night;  not  only  one  night,  but — "  Here 
the  letters  became  blurred,  and  Anastasi 
began  again:  "  In  watchfulness  he  was 
most  wonderful,  since  he  watched  all  the 
night;  not  only—  He  did  not  get  so  far 
as  before.  He  pinched  himself  and  made 
a  desperate  effort  to  open  wide  his  eyes. 
The  lids  would  not  rise  of  their  own 
accord.  It  was  only  by  wrinkling  his  fore 
head  lengthwise,  desperately,  that  he  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  them  up  at  all.  "  In 
watchfulness  he  was  most  won — won — " 

When  Anastasi  awoke  it  was  quite  dark 
in  the  cave,  and  Kotsas  was  calling  him. 

"  Oh,  Anastasi,  in  heaven's  name,  wake 
up!  It's  dark,  and  I 'm  afraid.  I  dursn't 
go  home  now  alone.  There's  vampires  and 
nereids  around  here,  I  know  there  is.  Come 
home  with  me,  Anastasi;  that's  a  good  fel 
low.  You  won't  keep  me  out  here  all  night, 
will  you?  My  father '11  go  crazy.  He'll 

63 


The  Tempting  of 

think  I  'm  dead  or  something.  Holy  Mother! 
he'll  be  so  glad  to  see  me  again,  that  he'll 
break  every  bone  in  my  body." 

"  Peace,  peace,"  said  Anastasi.  "You're 
not  worthy  to  be  a  saint's  friend.  I  wish 
I  'd  never  told  you  of  my  plan." 

"So  do  I.  I  don't  want  to  be  a  saint's 
friend.  I  don't  want  any  dealings  with 
saints,  in  any  way,  shape,  or  manner.  Be 
sides,  I'm  hungry.  Have  you  got  anything 
to  eat?" 

'  There 's  only  a  little  bread  left,  my 
brother.  But  you  will  be  proud  one  day 
to  say  that  the  Saint  of  Damala  shared  his 
crust  with  you." 

"  I  'd  rather  have  it  said  that  I  ate  roast 
lamb  with  the  biggest  scoundrel  in  town.  I 
tell  you,  I  'm  sick  of  this  saint  business. 
I  want  to  go  home;  the  quicker  I  go  home, 
the  less  wood  I  '11  eat." 

After  this  outburst,  which  was  really  a 
remarkable  effort  on  the  part  of  Kotsas, 

there   was    a   k>ng  period  of   comparative 

64 


Father  Anthony 


silence  in  the  cave.  The  demarch's  son 
sat  on  the  floor,  his  back  against  the  wall, 
his  hands  clasped  over  his  knees.  When 
he  thought  of  his  father's  probable  anger, 
he  moaned  feebly;  when  he  reflected  on 
Anastasi's  treachery,  he  sniffed  with  indig 
nation. 

The  latter  was  on  the  watch  for  some 
manifestation  of  the  evil  one.  If  only  he 
might  be  vouchsafed  a  grand  conflict  with 
the  powers  of  darkness,  the  victory  which 
he  was  sure  of  gaining,  would  establish  his 
reputation  as  a  saint  of  the  first  rank,  and 
would  set  him  right  in  the  eyes  of  the  world. 
That  he  should  be  victorious,  he  had  not 
the  least  doubt.  St.  Anthony  always  tri 
umphed. 

"  In  reading  any  of  his  conflicts,"  thought 
Anastasi,  "you  know  how  it's  coming  out 
before  you  begin." 

So  saturated  was  Anastasi  with  the  life 
and  teachings  of  his  great  model  that  he 
had  not  the  least  fear.  Knowing  that  the 

65 


The  Tempting  of 

devil  is  most  powerless  over  those  whom 
he  finds  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  he  re 
mained  kneeling,  eyes  and  ears  strained 
to  the  utmost,  ready  to  catch  the  first 
warning  of  the  arch  enemy's  approach. 
Thus  he  drifted  into  a  sort  of  listening 
ecstasy. 

The  moon  was  full  that  night  —  the  glo 
rious  moon,  nowhere  so  wonderful  as  in 
the  deep  skies  of  Greece.  Slowly  she 
sailed  through  the  heavens,  smiling  regret 
fully  upon  the  land  that  worships  her  no 
more.  Rugged  mountain  buttresses,  white 
nestling  villages,  pine-covered  peaks  glim 
mered  ghostly  yet  distinct  in  her  rays. 

Whenever  the  light  leaped  over  an  island, 
and  fell  upon  the  space  beyond,  the  dream 
ing  sea  laughed  in  its  sleep.  Gloomy  hol 
lows  were  poured  full  of  glory  whenever 
the  moon  passed  above  them. 

While  the  ravine  was  yet  dark,  Anastasi 
heard  confused  sounds  below  him;  grunting, 
snorting,  and  loud  splashing  in  the  water. 

66 


Father  Anthony 

"Here  they  come!"  he  exclaimed; 
"  Kotsas!  Kotsas!  Kotsas!  you  shall  now 
see  my  great  victory.  How  fortunate  that 
I  have  you  here  as  a  witness! " 

But  Kotsas,  forgetting  his  troubles  for 
the  time  being,  had  again  fallen  asleep. 

"Wake  up!  Wake  up!"  shouted  Anastasi, 
shaking  his  companion  vigorously;  "you 
must  be  a  witness  to  my  great  battle." 

"What  is  it?  What  in  heaven's  name 
is  the  matter  now?"  demanded  Kotsas. 

"Why,  the  devil  has  come,  and  has 
brought  with  him  his  lions,  his  bulls,  and 
his  rhinoceroses.  You  must  wake  up  and 
hear  me  defy  them." 

Kotsas  listened.  "Holy  Mother!"  he 
said,  "  it 's  the  nereids.  I  shall  never  get 
out  of  this  place  alive." 

Anastasi  crawled  to  the  mouth  of  the 
cave,  and  looked  down  into  the  ravine, 
still  kneeling.  Shadowy  forms  were  dimly 
visible,  scrambling  over  the  rocks  and 

floundering  in  the  pool. 

67 


The  Tempting  of 

"  I  know  you!  "  cried  Anastasi,  "  but  you 
can  neither  tempt  nor  frighten  me.  Come 
in  any  form  you  will,  bulls,  boars,  or  tigers, 
I  defy  you  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

Just  then  the  moon,  which  was  sailing 
along  above  the  mountain -ridge,  looked 
curiously  down  into  the  ravine.  Instantly 
its  craggy  sides  leaped  out  of  the  dark 
ness.  The  light  glanced  from  one  pool 
to  another  down  the  long  chasm,  and  the 
rivulet  gleamed  like  a  silver  thread  un 
wound  in  a  labyrinth.  Kotsas,  finding 
curiosity  more  potent  than  fear,  had  come 
forward,  and  was  peering  over  Anastasi's 
shoulder. 

'Thank  heaven,  they're  pigs!"  he 
gasped. 


Father  Anthony 


VII. 

SOON  voices  were  heard  in  the  dis 
tance — shouting  and  the  murmur  of 
excited  talk.  A  throng  of  people,  twenty 
or  more  in  number,  came  up  the  ravine 
and  stopped  at  the  pool.  One  had  a  lantern 
and  others  carried  burning  brands  of  pine. 
The  two  women  from  the  vineyard  were 
leading  the  way. 

"This  was  the  spot,"  said  Elene. 

"  No,  it  was  higher  up,"  said  Katina. 

'The  two  beautiful  devils!"  whispered 
Anastasi. 

Here  commenced  a  voluble  discussion. 
Several  members  of  the  party  told  the 
women  they  were  frauds,  and  instantly  all 
commenced  gesticulating  and  shouting  at 
the  tops  of  their  voices.  While  the  hubbub 
was  at  its  height,  a  boy  found  the  yellow 

handkerchief,  and  by  dancing  among  the 
69 


The  Tempting  of 

throng  while  he  waved  it  in  the  air,  suc 
ceeded  in  attracting  attention. 

Elene  seized  it. 

"Behold!"  she  exclaimed  triumphantly, 
"  this  is  my  handkerchief.  Perhaps  you'll 
all  contradict  me  again.  Right  here  we 
were  in  bathing,  and  right  out  of  the  rock 
above  our  heads  came  the  voice.  It  was 
very  fierce  and  terrible,  like  the  growl  of  a 
lion,  or  I  don't  know  what  dreadful  foreign 
beast.  'You  are  devils!  You  are  devils!' 
it  cried.  I  tell  you,  my  heart  stopped  beat 
ing,  and  my  hair  rose  like  a  frightened  cat's 
tail.  I  grabbed  my  clothes  and  ran  down 
the  ravine,  as  though  a  Turk  were  after  me. 
Three  times  I  fell  and  rolled  into  the  water. 
But,  poof!  I  was  up  and  off  again.  I  never 
thought  of  Katina,  but  when  I  stopped, 
there  she  was,  close  behind." 

The  boy  who  had  found  the  veil  here 
gave  vent  to  a  howl  of  juvenile  mirth,  and 
danced  about  upon  the  sands,  screaming 

like    an    imp.     The    picture    called    up   by 

70 


The  torches  were  raised  on  high. 


Father  Anthony 


Elene's  description  was  too  much  for  him. 
He  held  his  sides  to  keep  himself  from 
bursting,  and  his  cachinnations  filled  the 
whole  ravine. 

"Silence,  you  Meteso!"  cried  a  stern 
voice,  and  a  sharp  slap  followed,  changing 
the  laughter  into  instant  grief. 

"Holy  Mother!  that's  my  father," 
groaned  Kotsas.  "Oh!  what  shall  I  do? 
What  shall  I  do?  He'll  skin  me  like  a 
herring!" 

The  torches  were  raised  on  high,  and  the 
searching  party  scanned  both  sides  of  the 
ravine  carefully. 

'This  is  a  curious  thing,"  said  one 

"It's  a  miracle,"  said  another. 

"There's  a  cavern  along  here  some 
where,"  declared  a  shepherd,  "but  I  've  for 
gotten  now  where  it  is.  Besides,  it 's  an 
uncanny  place.  We  shepherds  call  it  the 
4  Cave  of  the  Nymphs.' ' 

"  Perhaps  the  voice  came  down  from  on 
top,"  suggested  one,  bending  his  head  back 

71 


The  Tempting  of 

and  making  out  with  difficulty  the  two  lines 
where,  at  the  top  of  the  cut,  the  blackness  of 
the  ravine  melted  into  the  silver  moonlight. 
The  moon  had  passed  on,  and  a  long  belt  of 
sky,  bejeweled  with  stars,  bended  far  above. 

"Impossible!"  declared  Katina  and 
Elene,  together.  "  The  voice  came  from 
right  here,  just  over  our  heads.  It  was 
close  by." 

"Silence,  Christians!"  said  the  demarch, 
in  a  commanding  voice;  "  if  we  find  the 
authors  of  this  prank,  we  shall  find  my  son 
Kotsas,  and  Anastasi,  the  priest's  son,  will 
not  be  far  off."  Then,  raising  his  voice,  he 
shouted:  "Kotsas!  You  Kotsas! " 

"  Here! "  came  a  frightened  response. 
The  presence  of  his  father  set  Kotsas  trem 
bling  as  with  the  ague,  and  when  he  heard 
his  name  called,  he  answered,  as  it  were, 
automatically.  The  party  raised  their 
torches,  and  gazed  at  the  spot  from  which 
the  voice  came.  It  seemed  as  though  the 

rocky  wall  itself  were  talking. 

72 


Father  Anthony 


"Here  I  am,  father;  here  I  am!  Anas- 
tasi  has  got  me  up  here  and  I  can 't  get 
down.  Don't  whip  me,  father.  Anastasi  's 
a  saint.  But  I  ain't  a  saint.  Please  let 
me  off  this  time,  my  father.  I  don't  want 
to  be  a  saint;  I  swear  I  don't." 

"Holy  Virgin!  Where's  the  boy?" 
chorused  half  a  dozen  voices. 

"He's  crazy,  wherever  he  is,"  declared 
an  old  man. 

"  I  '11  make  him  sane  soon  enough,  when 
I  get  hold  of  him,"  observed  the  demarch. 

"  Holy  Mother!  "  gasped  Kotsas. 

"Anastasi  Kriezes!"  shouted  the  papa- 
dia,  holding  her  torch  high  above  her 
head,  "I  command  you  to  show  yourself. 
Your  boyish  prank  has  caused  quite  enough 
trouble  already.  The  sooner  you  come  out 
the  better  it  will  be  for  you." 

"Yes,  Anastasi,  my  boy,"  said  the  good 
old  priest,  in  a  pleading  voice,  "  do  come 
home.  Your  mother  and  I  have  worried 
about  you  terribly." 

73 


The  Tempting  of 

Anastasi  parted  the  ferns,  and  stood  in 
the  mouth  of  the  cave.  He  was  leaning 
against  the  rock,  with  one  hand  above  his 
head.  The  other  he  extended  in  a  per 
suasive  gesture. 

"  Brothers  and  sisters,"  he  began,  "  I  re 
gret  greatly  the  annoyance  that*  I  have 
caused  you;  but  I  am  glad  that  you  are 
all  present  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say. 
As  you  well  know,  my  father  is  priest 
of  Damala,  as  was  his  father  before  him, 
and  I  have  been  educated  to  fill  the  same 
place  in  my  turn.  But  it  has  been  re 
vealed  to  me  that  I  am  to  be  something 
greater  than  a  mere  priest." 

"Oh,  you'll  be  better  than  your  father, 
will  you?"  interrupted  his  mother,  sneer- 
ingly.  "  Oh,  that  you  should  ever  stand 
before  me  and  say  it!  A  bad  year  to  you! 
Your  father,  who  for  thirty  years  has 
been  loved  and  respected  by  the  citizens 
of  Damala!  You'll  be  better  than  he,  will 
you?  You  rogue!  You  villain!  Come  down 

74 


Father  Anthony 

from  there  immediately.  I  '11  straighten 
you  out." 

"  Now,  papadia,  my  papadia,  don't  get 
excited,"  pleaded  the  good  priest.  "  Little 
Anastasi  will  come  right  down,  won't  you, 
Anastasi?  And  then  we'll  hear  what  he 
has  to  say.  He  will  no  doubt  explain 
everything." 

"We'll  hear  him  howl;  that's  what 
we'll  hear,"  declared  the  papadia,  pulling 
up  her  sleeves. 

By  the  light  of  the  flickering  torches, 
Father  Evangelos,  in  his  long,  black  robes, 
looked  like,  a  sacred  inquisitor.  When  he 
raised  his  arms  in  entreaty  or  depreca 
tion,  the  ample  sleeves  spread  out  like 
the  wings  of  some  great  nocturnal  bird. 
You  would  have  wondered,  had  you  seen 
him,  why  he  did  not  give  one  or  two 
flaps,  and  light  in  the  cave  door. 

Yet  Father  Evangelos  was  a  sweet  and 
gentle  soul. 

"  And  what,"  queried  the  demarch,  "  are 

75 


The  Tempting  of 

you  going  to  do  so  much  better  than  your 
honest  father  here? " 

"I'm  going  to  be  a  saint,"  replied 
Anastasi.  The  reiteration  of  this  strange 
statement,  first  by  one  boy  and  then  by 
the  other,  perplexed  the  villagers  not  a 
little. 

"  Holy  Mother!  They  have  both  gone 
crazy,"  exclaimed  several. 

"Some  one  has  cast  the  evil  eye  upon 
them,"  said  a  young  woman. 

"  I  know  an  excellent  incantation  for 
evil  eye,"  eagerly  cried  an  old  hag,  who 
had  followed  the  party.  Though  nearly 
ninety  years  of  age,  and  crooked  as  the 
stem  of  a  gourd,  she  was  as  agile  as  a 
cat.  Hungry  time  had  picked  clean  her 
bones,  and  so  light  was  she  that  she  floated 
about  the  hills  like  a  thistle  down,  collect 
ing  potent  herbs;  and,  according  to  some, 
holding  commune  with  the  spirits  of  the 
wilderness.  It  was  even  whispered  that 

she    knew    how    to    find    the    cave    of    the 

76 


Father  Anthony 


three   fates,   and   that  she  was  on   calling 
terms  with  the  Dreadful  Sisters. 

As  she  raised  her  face  now  to  talk, 
her  nose  and  chin  bobbed  back  and  forth 
at  each  other  like  the  features  of  those 
fist  silhouettes  which  children  make  on 
the  wall. 

"Come  down,  my  eyes!"  she  began  in 
a  whining,  sing-song  voice;  "come  down, 
my  lives.  Sophia  will  cure  your  poor  heads 
of  the  crooked  idea.  Just  a  little  herb 
from  the  mountain,  a  few  powerful  words, 
a  little  spittle;  Sophia  won't  hurt  you; 
my  eyes,  my  — 

"  I  tell  you  I  don't  want  to  be  a  saint, 
and  I  ain't  crazy!"  roared  Kotsas,  blubber 
ing  between  the  words. 

'  Then  why  don't  you  come  down,  you 
great  calf  ?  "  demanded  his  father. 

"  I  can  't  come  down.  I  climbed  up  on  a 
grape-vine,  and  Anastasi  threw  it  down." 

"  Christian  brothers,  let  me  finish,"  con 
tinued  Anastasi.  "  It  is  as  Kotsas  says.  I 

77 


The  Tempting  of 

am  to  blame  for  everything.  In  the  '  Life 
of  St.  Anthony,'  '  —here  he  picked  up  the 
book  and  waved  it  solemnly  —  "I  read  how 
that  great  man  left  his  family  and  friends, 
and  went  to  live  in  a  cavern.  There  he  was 
tempted  by  the  devil  in  many  forms,  espe 
cially  as  a  woman.  I  am  going  to  be  a 
saint,  like  Anthony  the  Great.  This  very 
night  the  devil  came  to  me  in  the  shape  of 
two  beautiful  women  and  bathed  in  the 
pool." 

'  Two  beautiful  women!  Why,  that  was 
us!  "  exclaimed  Katina. 

'"  The  poor,  dear  boy!  "  chimed  in  Elene. 
"  Don't  be  hard  on  him,  Kuria  papadia;  he 
means  for  the  best." 

'Then,"  continued  Anastasi,  "he  came 
to  frighten  me  in  the  shape  of  wild  animals, 
but  I  defied  him.  If  you  had  not  come,  who 
knows  what  form  he  would  have  taken 


"What  does  the  fool  mean?"  asked  the 

papadia. 

78 


Father  Anthony 


"My  love,  my  love,"  interposed  the 
priest,  "there  is  some  reason  for  the  boy's 
delusion.  He  has  seen  Farmer  Leusi's  ani 
mals.  They  were  sleeping  under  the  trees, 
and  when  they  saw  our  torches  they  took 
fright  and  ran  up  the  ravine." 

"  Let  it  be  so,"  cried  Anastasi,  with  a 
wave  of  the  hand.  "  I  have  decided  to  be 
a  saint,  and  a  saint  I  will  be.  Throw  up 
the  grape-vine.  I'll  hold  it  till  Kotsas 
climbs  down;  then  you  can  all  go  home,  and 
leave  me  in  the  wilderness.  God  bless  you 
all!" 

The  papadia  grabbed  the  grape-vine  and 
threw  it  up.  After  several  unsuccessful  at 
tempts  Anastasi  succeeded  in  catching  the 
end,  which  he  twisted  around  the  projec 
tion  of  rock.  To  his  surprise,  his  mother 
instantly  started  up  the  vine,  hand  over 
hand.  The  lady  had  been  a  shepherdess 
in  her  youth.  She  was  somewhat  heavier 
now  than  when,  in  her  early  days,  she  had 

bounded    like   a   spotted   fawn   among  the 

79 


The  Tempting  of 

rocks,  and  followed  her  kids  up  the  wall- 
like  precipices;  but  even  now  she  was  by 
no  means  corpulent,  and  her  arms  were  as 
strong  as  a  blacksmith's.  Ere  the  specta 
tors  had  recovered  from  their  first  astonish 
ment,  she  had  disappeared  within  the  cave. 

Immediately  afterward  Kotsas  slid  down, 
his  chubby  legs  kicking  in  the  air  as  he 
sought  vainly  to  catch  his  toes  into  the 
rock.  He  was  caught  at  the  bottom  in  the 
strong  arms  of  his  father,  and  began  to  howl 
before  he  had  received  a  blow.  The  worthy 
demarch  did  not  leave  him  long  without 
cause  for  grief. 

Anastasi  followed  soon  after.  He  had 
been  accustomed  from  earliest  infancy  to 
regard  his  mother  as  the  absolute  ruler  of 
his  father's  household,  and  as  a  person  who 
could  not  be  disobeyed  with  impunity.  Find 
ing  himself  suddenly  face  to  face  with  her, 
he  felt  that  resistance  was  useless,  and  im 
mediately  prepared  to  leave  the  cave.  He 

did  not  escape,  however,  before  he  had  re- 

80 


Father  Anthony 


ceived  two  ringing  boxes  on  the  ear,  plainly 
audible  to  those  below. 

The  good  old  priest,  overjoyed  at  seeing 
his  son  again,  darted  forward  with  open 
arms  to  press  him- to  his  bosom.  Anastasi, 
mistaking  the  action,  dashed  up  the  ravine 
and  was  lost  to  view. 

The  papadia  did  not  descend  from  the 
cavern  as  uneventfully  as  she  had  gone  up. 
Ere  her  feet  touched  the  sand,  the  vine 
broke  and  she  fell  upon  her  back  in  the 
pool  of  water. 

'  The  devil  take  the  boy,  I  say! "  she 
shouted,  scrambling  to  her  feet.  '  The 
devil  take  him!  Nah!  nah!  nah!" 

At  each  "  nah  "  she  opened  her  fists  and 
thrust  her  palm  in  the  direction  whither 
Anastasi  had  disappeared. 

"My  papadia,  my  papadia!"  pleaded 
Father  Evangelos,  "don't  curse  our  boy." 

For  answer,  the  lady  also  fetched  the 
priest  a  ringing  slap  beside  the  head,  and 
started  for  home. 

81 


The  Tempting  of 

"  Never  again,"  said  she,  "  shall  that 
wretch  darken  my  door!  Never  again! 
I  've  suffered  enough  from  him  this  night 
to  last  a  lifetime." 

"My  papadia  seems 'to  be  somewhat 
excited,"  explained  the  priest,  picking  up 
his  tall  hat  and  dusting  it  with  his  sleeve. 


Father  Anthony 


VIII. 

A  NASTASI  was  neither  tempted  nor 
J-*-  tried  further  that  night.  He,  there 
fore,  had  plenty  of  time  for  reflection,  and 
the  more  he  thought  of  the  matter,  the 
more  fixed  became  his  determination  not  to 
return  home.  'The  first  thing  a  genuine 
saint  does,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  is  to  cut 
loose  from  his  family.  For  a  long  time  the 
devil  kept  St.  Anthony  worrying  as  to 
whether  his  sister  was  starving  or  not. 
That  was  one  of  the  good  man's  severest 
trials,  but  he  finally  succeeded  in  putting 
his  sister  out  of  his  mind  entirely.  I  must 
forget  my  family  right  from  the  start." 

Thus  he  reasoned,  not  even  admitting 
to  himself  that  fear  of  ridicule  and  of  his 
mother's  anger  were  now  influencing  him 
quite  as  strongly  as  was  his  determination 
to  become  a  saint. 

83 


The  Tempting  of 

"  Perhaps  I  can  find  something  in  St. 
Anthony's  life  to  guide  me  now.  Holy 
Mother!  I  've  left  the  book  in  the  cave. 
What  shall  I  do  if  it  is  not  there?" 
Anastasi  returned  to  the  cave  and  found 
the  locality  deserted.  He  repossessed 
himself  of  the  precious  book,  and  waited 
patiently  for  the  dawn.  For  a  long  time 
he  heard  nothing  but  the  trickling  of  the 
water  in  the  bed  of  the  ravine.  Toward 
morning  a  little  breeze  sprang  up  out  of 
the  east,  and  whispered  to  the  pines  that 
day  was  coming.  Later,  a  church  bell 
chimed  sweetly  in  the  faint,  clear  distance. 
Then  Anastasi  knew  that  the  morning  star 
was  keeping  watch  alone  in  the  sky,  and 
that  there  was  a  flush  of  orange  low  down 
in  the  east.  He  was  so  eager  to  con 
sult  his  great  authority  that  he  could  not 
wait  until  the  light  of  the  cave  should  be 
sufficient  for  reading,  so  he  set  out  with 
the  book  under  his  arm.  When  he  reached 

the  mouth  of  the  ravine,  the  sun  was  stand- 

84 


Father  Anthony 


ing  on  the  sea's  edge,  looking  at  the  world. 
Anastasi  sat  down  under  an  olive  tree,  and 
began  to  read  eagerly. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  have  followed  his 
example  faithfully  so  far.  I  have  given  all 
I  had  to  the  poor;  or,  at  least,  tried  to  do 
so.  I  have  left  my  family.  I  wonder  what 
Perikles  is  doing  now,  and  where  my  goat 
is?"  Here  his  eye  fell  again  upon  the 
open  page. 

"And  he  lived  as  a  hermit  near  his 
house,"  said  the  lines,  "because  at  that 
time  there  were  no  monasteries  in  Egypt." 

These  words  attracted  Anastasi's  atten 
tion:  "  Because  there  were  no  monasteries 
in  Egypt,"  he  mused.  "  Clearly,  the  mean 
ing  is,  that  if  a  monastery  had  existed  he 
would  have  gone  to  it." 

For  half  an  hour  or  more  he  sat  in  deep 
meditation,  and  finally  came  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  he  would  offer  himself  as  a  novice 
at  the  monastery  of  the  "  Life-giving 
Spring."  He  had  never  been  there,  but 

85 


The  Tempting  of 

had  once  been  far  down  the  mainland  to  a 
point  whence  he  had  seen  the  white  build 
ing  shining  among  the  pines  of  the  distant 
island.  He  remembered  well  the  wide 
stretch  of  sea,  the  verdant  slope  of  the 
island,  and  the  white  walls  glimmering 
through  the  green.  He  knew  that  the 
building  was  large,  although  it  seemed  so 
small,  and  that  it  contained  cool  cloisters 
where  the  monks  walked  and  thought  of 
the  good  of  their  souls.  He  had  heard 
also  that  the  good  fathers  owned  vineyards, 
besides  orange  and  olive  orchards  where 
they  labored.  He  would  offer  to  work  for 
what  little  bread  was  necessary  to  sustain 
his  life,  and  would  surpass  all  the  others  in 
austerity  and  victories  over  the  evil  one. 
The  monastery  should  be  known  in  future 
years  as  the  temporary  home  of  St.  Anas- 
tasi. 

Full  of  this  thought  he  set  out  with  his 
book  under  his  arm.  He  felt  very  hungry, 
and  now  the  sun  began  to  blaze  with 

86 


Father  Anthony 

intolerable  fierceness.  If  he  shut  his  eyes 
for  a  moment  to  keep  out  the  glare,  a 
dozen  or  so  of  his  mother's  delicious  sugar 
cakes,  white  and  crisp,  seemed  to  dance 
about  in  the  momentary  darkness.  Strive 
as  he  would,  he  could  not  help  conjuring  up 
the  vision  again  and  again. 

'They're  just  at  breakfast,  now,"  he 
thought,  and  a  subtile  aroma  of  coffee  filled 
his  nostrils,  the  ghost  of  a  perfume.  He  was 
being  sorely  tempted.  For  a  little  way  his 
path  led  along  the  edge  of  the  brook.  Fre 
quently  he  laved  his  face  and  drank,  lying 
flat  upon  his  stomach.  Then  he  followed  a 
tiny  aqueduct  that  carried  a  portion  of  the 
precious  fluid  off  to  a  distant  garden.  At 
first  his  route  lay  through  olive  forests. 
The  hillsides  were  dry  and  brown  and  the 
foliage  of  the  trees  was  a  dull  green. 
Lower  down,  he  passed  through  a  grape 
field.  The  fruit  was  almost  ripe,  and  the 
amber  clusters  gleamed  among  the  cool 

leaves.     The  little  aqueduct  finally  disap- 

87 


The  Tempting  of 

peared  under  a  white  mud  wall  surrounding 
a  garden.  Deserted  by  his  babbling  guide 
that  had  accompanied  him  so  faithfully  all 
the  way  from  the  ravine,  he  followed  the 
wall  until  he  came  to  the  inclosure  of 
another  garden.  Between  the  two  walls 
was  a  narrow  road,  and  in  this  he  continued 
his  way. 

The  cicadas  had  again  begun  their  mo 
notonous  rasping,  awakened  by  the  vivid 
sun.  Every  few  moments  he  passed  a  gate, 
the  entrance  to  a  new  inclosure.  Here  the 
second  story  of  a  house  usually  peeped  over 
the  wall,  and  within  he  could  hear  the  well- 
horse  going  round  and  round,  and  the  plash 
ing  of  the  cold  water  as  it  poured  into  the 
conduit  and  gurgled  away  to  the  reservoir. 
Nearly  all  the  wheels  made  a  regular 
"click,"  "click,"  "  click,"  as  they  revolved, 
but  there  was  one  somewhere  in  the  distance 
that  had  not  been  oiled,  and  it  gave  out  a 
mellow  moan,  like  the  droning  of  a  great 
bee.  The  sun  shone  very  hot  in  the  narrow 

88 


Father  Anthony 


alley.  For  a  long  distance  there  was  nothing 
to  relieve  the  eyes  from  the  whiteness  of 
the  walls  and  the  whiteness  of  the  dust 
underfoot.  Blackberry  vines  lined  the  road 
everywhere.  With  irrigation  they  would 
now  have  been  hanging  full  of  luscious  fruit. 
Instead,  even  the  leaves  were  shriveled 
up. 

Now  and  then  country  people,  who  had 
been  to  the  early  market  at  Poros,  trotted 
by  on  donkeys.  They  had  sold  their  eggs, 
vegetables,  and  chickens,  and  were  returning 
to  their  farms.  None  of  them,  so  far,  were 
from  Damala,  and  they  did  not  recognize 
Anastasi.  A  benevolent-looking  Greek 
overtook  and  passed  him.  He  was  seated 
sidewise  on  a  donkey  no  bigger  than  him 
self,  which  he  whacked  first  on  one  flank 
and  then  on  the  other  with  an  olive  wood 
club.  The  animal  kept  in  the  same  track 
with  his  fore  feet,  but  his  hind  legs  trotted 
back  and  forth  in  a  zig-zag  course,  as  he 

shrank    away   from   the   resounding  blows. 

89 


The  Tempting  of 

The  man  had  four  lambs  swung  over  his 
saddle,  each  one  tied  by  a  hind  leg,  head 
down.  The  poor  animals  bleated  faintly 
with  pain,  like  moaning  children,  but  Anas- 
tasi  did  not  notice  their  sufferings.  Such 
sights  are  too  common  in  Greece  to  attract 
attention. 

As  the  little  donkey  continued  to  weave 
from  side  to  side  under  the  blows,  but  made 
no  greater  progress,  the  benevolent  lamb- 
merchant  began  to  punch  the  animal 
methodically  at  the  roots  of  the  tail  with 
the  sharp  end  of  his  stick.  He  soon  suc 
ceeded  in  working  a  sore  place,  and  the 
result  was  highly  creditable  to  his  ingenuity, 
for  at  every  jab  the  donkey  accelerated  his 
pace  in  a  forward  direction.  At  this 
moment  the  benevolent  countryman  spied  a 
little  church  in  the  distance,  and  piously 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross  with  his  right 
hand,  while  he  continued  punching  the  sore 
with  his  left.  So  he  disappeared. 

Anastasi,  being  on  foot,  could  not  see  the 
90 


Father  Anthony 


church  on  account  of  the  garden  walls,  nev 
ertheless  he  crossed  himself. 

"  I  had  begun  to  grow  faint  from  hunger 
and  thirst,"  he  thought,  "but  that  good 
man  has  reminded  me  that  I  must  put  my 
trust  on  high." 

As  though  in  answer  to  the  thought,  at 
that  very  moment  the  wall  on  his  left  hand 
ended  abruptly,  to  commence  again  further 
on.  In  the  gap  thus  formed  was  an  irri 
gating  well.  The  huge  wheel  was  sup 
plied  with  earthen  jars.  As  it  revolved, 
those  below  were  dipped  in  the  water,  while 
those  above  emptied  themselves  into  a  con 
duit  that  led  off  to  the  reservoir. 

Fastened  to  the  end  of  a  pole,  a  blind 
folded  mule  walked  patiently  around  a 
circle.  Near  the  well  was  a  house,  and  by 
the  open  door  sat  an  old  woman  spinning 
wool  with  a  hand  spindle.  By  her  side 
slept  a  huge  shepherd  dog. 

"  If    I   do  not  have  something  to  eat," 

said  Anastasi  to  himself,    "  I  shall  be  too 

91 


The  Tempting  of 

weak  to  walk  to  the  monastery.  Many  of 
the  saints  have  begged  their  bread.  I  will 
ask  this  good  woman  for  a  crust  and  a  glass 
of  water." 

He  approached  and  lifted  his  hat,  saying: 
"  Good  day,  lady.  Will  you  have  the  kind 
ness  to  give  me  a  glass  of  water? " 

;<  There's  a  gourd  inside  the  well,"  re 
plied  the  woman,  pleasantly;  "  help  your 
self.  God's  water  is  free.  Look  out  for  the 
pole  when  the  mule  comes  around." 

Anastasi  drank  deep,  but  before  he  could 
ask  for  the  bread,  the  woman  began  to 
question  him. 

"  Where  are  you  from,  my  boy?  " 

"From  Damala." 

"What's  your  principal  name?" 

"  Anastasi." 

"And  the  added  name?" 

"  Kriezes." 

"  Any  relative  of  Evangelos  Kriezes,  the 
priest  of  Damala?" 

"  I  'm  his  son,"  replied  Anastasi. 
92 


Father  Anthony 


"  I  know  him  well!  I  know  him  well!  " 
cried  the  old  woman,  with  animation.  "  He 
married  my  daughter  Eirene  to  young  Stav- 
ros  Boutsophanos,  who  has  a  farm  near 
Damala.  You  should  be  proud  of  such  a 
father.  How  good  he  is!  How  just!  How 
sweet-tempered!  He's  a  saint,  that  man 
is — an  old-fashioned  saint!  All  the  world 
loves  him;  and  he  loves  good  food,  too.  We 
are  killing  a  goat  to-day.  When  you  pass 
by,  on  your  way  back,  you  must  stop  and 
take  the  head  home  to  your  father,  and  tell 
him  that  Panagiota  Kolias  sends  him  a 
thousand  reverences,  and  wishes  him  many 
years  to  do  good  in." 

"I  must  be  going,  lady,"  said  Anastasi; 
"I  must  hurry  on,"  and  lifting  his  hat,  he 
went  away.  He  was  ashamed  to  beg  bread 
of  this  woman  who  knew  his  father.  "  Be 
sides,"  he  reasoned,  "  she  thinks  my  father 
a  saint,  who  fattens  on  goats'  eyes  and  the 
white-bread  offerings  that  his  congrega 
tion  bring  every  day  to  the  church.  She 

93 


The  Tempting  of 

would  n't  believe  I  was  a  saint  if  I  were  to 
tell  her  so.  My  father  a  saint,  indeed! 
He's  a  good  enough  man,  but  who  ever 
heard  of  a  fat  saint?" 

After  this  episode  the  lane  seemed  inter 
minable,  and  when  at  last  Anastasi  reached 
a  great  walnut  tree,  he  paused  in  its  pleas 
ant  shade.  Here  some  kind  soul  had  made 
a  square  opening  in  the  wall,  and  had  hol 
lowed  out  a  basin  in  the  masonry.  Into  this 
trickled  a  stream  of  water  for  the  use  of 
thirsty  men  and  animals.  Anastasi  drank 
again  and  again. 

"Oh,  that's  refreshing!"  he  muttered. 
Peeping  through  the  hole  he  could  see  a 
white  house,  and  a  forest  of  lemon  and 
orange  trees.  The  well-wheel  was  in  mo 
tion,  and  the  well  was  entirely  covered  by  a 
spreading  grape-vine  supported  on  a  trellis. 
A  fat  mule  walked  lazily  around  in  the 
shade,  and  the  leafy  roof  above  him  was 
frescoed  with  clusters  of  green  and  purple 
grapes.  The  sun  shone  on  the  surface  of 

94 


Father  Anthony 


the  water  in  the  reservoir,  and  a  school  of 
gold-fish  flashed  in  its  pellucid  depths. 

"  It's  very  nice,  indeed!"  said  Anastasi; 
"but  even  a  saint  can't  live  on  cold  water. 
I  wonder  what  I  '11  do? " 

He  sat  down  under  the  tree  to  reflect 
and  consult  his  authority.  He  was  faint  and 
began  to  feel  drowsy.  The  more  he  studied 
the  bread  problem,  the  more  difficult  it . 
seemed.  But  even  yet  his  faith  did  not 
desert  him. 

"  God  will  not  let  one  of  his  saints  starve," 
he  said,  and  so  he  fell  asleep. 

He  was  awakened  by  the  clatter  of  ap 
proaching  donkeys,  and  female  voices.  He 
opened  his  eyes,  and  immediately  closed 
them  again,  pretending  to  sleep.  For  there 
before  him,  each  sitting  astride  a  little  don 
key,  were  Elene  and  Katina. 

"  It's  the  two  devils,"  thought  Anastasi, 
"  come  to  tempt  me  while  I  'm  faint  with 
hunger." 

"  It's  the  nice  young  man  who  said  we 

95 


The  Tempting  of 

were  so  beautiful,"  said  Katina;  "  what 's  his 
name? " 

"  Anastasi." 

"  Let 's  wake  him.  Anastasi!  Anastasi! 
How  sound  he  sleeps,  poor  fellow! " 

"Perhaps  he's  run  away  from  home," 
suggested  Elene.  "  His  mother  ought  not 
to  have  struck  him  before  the  whole  neigh 
borhood.  I'll  bet  he's  hungry.  Let's  give 
him  some  of  these  sweet  koulouria  we 
bought  in  Poros.  We  sold  our  eggs  so  high, 
our  men  won't  know  exactly  how  much 
money  we  had." 

"Anastasi!  Anastasi!"  As  he  did  not 
stir,  the  two  women  began  to  pelt  him 
with  the  koulouria  (sweet  biscuits  shaped 
like  small  rings),  laughing  gleefully  the 
while.  One  of  the  biscuits  striking  Anas 
tasi  full  in  the  face,  it  was  useless  further 
to  pretend  sleep.  He  therefore  started 
to  rise,  when  the  frolicsome  nymphs  be 
gan  to  kick  their  heels  into  the  donkeys' 

ribs,    and    quickly    disappeared    around    a 

96 


Father  Anthony 


corner  of  the  lane,  shrieking  with  mer 
riment. 

Anastasi  gathered  up  the  biscuits,  and 
after  devoutly  crossing  himself,  fell  to  upon 
them  with  a  will. 

"I  wonder  what  sort  of  devils  these 
can  be,"  he  mused,  "who  were  so  pleased 
simply  because  I  said  they  were  beau 
tiful?" 


97 


The  Tempting  of 


IX. 

REATLY  refreshed  and  strengthened 
by  his  repast,  Anastasi  set  out  again 
with  a  lighter  heart.  The  lane  came  to  an 
end,  and  right  before  him  was  the  little 
town  of  Galata.  In  the  shady  square  old 
men  sat  smoking  cigarettes  and  marchiles, 
and  a  number  of  maidens  were  filling  their 
jars  at  the  fountain.  Small  craft  flitted 
to  and  fro  in  the  bay.  The  sails  of  some 
were  of  a  terra-cotta  color;  of  others, 
white  as  the  wings  of  a  swan.  A  caique, 
bound  for  Athens,  rolled  by  in  the  fresh 
breeze  blowing  up  the  strait.  Her  tall 
masts  leaned  gracefully,  and  the  water 
gurgled  about  her  prow.  Another  was  com 
ing  into  the  harbor's  mouth,  with  the  wind 
squarely  behind.  Her  wing-shaped  sails 
were  flung  out  on  either  side,  and  she  looked 

like  a  great  bird  swooping  in  from  the  sea. 

98 


Father  Anthony 


Over  the  narrow  bay  lay  Poros  on  a 
hillside,  its  white  houses  flashing  in  the 
sun.  Where  they  were  thickest,  a  black 
rock  stood  out,  like  a  grim  guardian. 

The  fare  across  from  Galata  to  Poros 
in  a  rowboat  is  half  a  penny,  and  Anas- 
tasi  possessed  an  Egyptian  coin  of  exactly 
that  amount.  He  had  saved  it  because 
of  the  queer  spider-leg  characters  on  it, 
which  looked  as  though  they  might  have 
some  talismanic  meaning.  With  this  safely 
in  his  hand,  he  stepped  into  one  of  the 
boats,  and  two  minutes  afterward  found 
himself  in  Poros  for  the  second  time  in 
his  life. 

This  town,  one  of  the  most  picturesquely 
situated  in  the  world,  contains  about  four 
thousand  inhabitants.  It  boasts  of  an  in 
credibly  filthy  hotel,  half  a  dozen  wine 
shops,  and  a  cafe  or  two.  In  the  eyes 
of  Anastasi,  who  hailed  from  Damala, 
it  was  a  metropolis,  whose  inhabitants 
lived  in  Persian  luxury,  surrounded  by 

99 


The  Tempting  of 

all  the  wonders  of  modern  civilization. 
He  thought  its  cafes  aristocratic  resorts, 
and  the  caiques  in  the  harbor,  laden  with 
onions,  fruit,  and  Italian  pottery,  made 
for  him  a  forest  of  shipping.  On  his 
previous  visit,  an  Englishman  had  been 
pointed  out  to  him  who  was  staying  a 
week  at  the  hotel,  paying  thirty  cents 
a  day,  and  Anastasi  had  talked  about  the 
wonder  ever  since. 

Handing  the  man  the  Egyptian  half 
penny,  Anastasi  looked  about  him.  For 
the  first  time  since  setting  out  upon  his 
career  as  a  saint,  he  felt  misgivings  as 
to  his  own  worthiness  and  importance. 
Other  boys,  coming  to  the  city  for  the 
first  time,  have  had  similar  feelings.  His 
weakness,  however,  was  only  transitory. 
He  was  passing  through  Poros  unknown 
as  yet,  he  thought,  but  the  time  would 
come  when  the  whole  great  city  should 
be  proud  to  do  him  honor. 

Strengthened  by  this  reflection,  he  hur- 


100 


Father  Anthony 

ried  along  the  front  of  the  town,  passed 
the  naval  station,  and  crossed  the  narrow 
isthmus  that  leads  to  the  island  of  Cal- 
avria.  From  this  point  there  is  a  good 
road  all  the  way  to  the  monastery.  The 
greater  part  of  the  distance  it  skirts  a 
precipice,  at  whose  base  the  sea  slides 
backwards  and  forwards  ceaselessly,  like 
a  strong  tiger  in  a  cage.  It  is  pleasant 
to  walk  along  this  road.  On  your  left 
all  the  way  there  is  a  hillside  roughly 
clad  in  pines,  and  on  the  right  the  open 
ocean.  By  and  by,  Anastasi  came  to  an 
olive  grove,  with  a  brook  running  through 
it,  and  he  knew  that  the  monastery  was 
just  above  him.  He  sat  down  under  one 
of  the  trees  to  reflect. 

"  Shall  I  tell  the  monks,"  he  asked  him 
self,  "  that  I  have  set  out  to  be  a  saint,  or 
shall  I  simply  go  and  offer  myself  as  a 
novice,  and  let  them  find  out  who  I  am 
afterward?  If  I  tell  them  I'm  a  saint, 
perhaps  they  will  not  believe  me.  Perhaps 


The  Tempting  of 

some  of  them  will  be  jealous,  and  will  not 
let  me  in.  Perhaps  even  some  of  them  will 
laugh  at  me." 

This  last  reflection  decided  him.  A 
Greek  can  endure  anything  better  than 
ridicule.  He  climbed  the  hill  and  came  to 
the  monastery  door.  The  building,  a 
rambling  structure,  is  situated  in  an  amphi 
theatre  of  pine-covered  hills.  In  front  is  a 
deep  ravine  that  in  summer  overflows  with 
pink  oleander  blossoms  and  in  winter  with 
a  white  foaming  torrent.  Across  the  ravine 
is  a  spring  called  "the  fountain  of  life," 
because  its  waters  have  health-giving  prop 
erties.  Encircling  mountains  and  a  bit  of 
sea — this  is  the  horizon  of  the  monks. 

Anastasi  peeped  in  at  the  door.  He 
saw  a  court  bounded  by  two  stories  of  cells. 
A  wide  piazza  extended  around  the  build 
ing  on  the  inside,  making  a  sort  of  open-air 
hall  for  the  monks  of  the  upper  cells. 
Where  the  piazza  ended,  it  was  continued 
by  a  grape  arbor,  the  two  together  form- 


Father  Anthony 


ing  a  shady  cloister  for  exercise  and  reli 
gious  reflection. 

At  one  side  of  the  court  was  the  church. 
Two  cypress  trees  and  a  date  palm  standing 
by  it,  threw  their  shadows  into  the  white 
inclosure.  No  one  was  in  sight  at  first,  but 
while  Anastasi  stood  looking,  a  young  man 
came  out  of  a  distant  cell,  carrying  a  large 
iron  kettle  very  carefully  for  fear  of  spill 
ing  its  contents.  He  traversed  the  square 
diagonally,  and  entered  another  door  open 
ing  upon  the  cloister.  Anastasi  noticed 
that  his  long  black  robe  was  belted  with  a 
rope,  and  that  he  wore  a  soft  skull  cap  upon 
his  head. 

Anastasi  stepped  through  the  arching 
entrance  and  peeped  curiously  into  the  little 
apartment  where  the  man  had  disappeared. 
A  venerable  brother  was  tasting  the  con 
tents  of  the  kettle,  and  smacking  his 
lips  critically.  He  was  evidently  satisfied, 
for  he  moved  his  head  up  and  down  and 

made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  the  mess. 
103 


The  Tempting  of 

As  the  younger  man  turned  to  come  away 
Anastasi  stepped  eagerly  across  the  square, 
and  met  him  in  the  cloister. 

"  Good  morning,  brother,"  said  he  ;  "  is  it 
permitted  to  say  a  word  with  you?" 

"  Not  now,  for  I  must  get  this  lamb  stew 
over  the  fire.  It's  eleven  o'clock  now,  and 
the  father  superior  is  dying  of  hunger." 

But  Anastasi  was  not  to  be  put  off  so 
easily.  He  followed  the  cook,  for  such  his 
new-found  acquaintance  proved  to  be,  the 
entire  length  of  the  cloister  and  into  the 
kitchen  itself.  Anastasi  had  never  seen 
anything  like  this  room  before,  and  he 
gazed  about  him  for  a  moment  in  silent 
amazement.  In  the  center  was  an  immense 
stone  altar  on  which  a  log  fire  was  burning. 
The  smoke  ascended  in  a  column  and 
escaped  through  an  opening  in  the  pyramid- 
shaped  room.  On  each  side  of  the  fire  was 
a  crotch  of  iron.  In  the  crotches  the  cook 
now  laid  an  iron  bar,  after  having  first 

passed  it  through  the  handle  of  the  kettle. 
104 


Father  Anthony 


He  then  raked  back  the  burning  logs,  and 
piled  the  coals  high  under  the  stew.  Step 
ping  suddenly  back  from  the  fire,  he  bumped 
against  Anastasi. 

"  Hello,"  said  he,  "you  here  yet  ?  What 
do  you  want  of  me?" 

"  I  want  to  become  a  saint,"  said  Anas 
tasi. 

"A  what?" 

"A  monk,  I  mean.  I  want  to  become  a 
monk." 

'  The  two  things  don't  always  mean  the 
same  thing,  unfortunately.  At  any  rate  you 
must  go  to  the  father  superior.  Do  you 
know  where  his  cell  is?" 

"Yes;  I  think  so.  The  one  you  just 
went  to  with  the  stew?" 

'That's  it.     That's  the  very  one." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Anastasi,  and  he 
started.  He  had  not  gone  over  half  way 
across  the  court  before  he  felt  the  cook's 
hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"Stop,    my   brother,"    said    the    latter; 


The  Tempting  of 

"  the  father  superior  is  a  saint,  but  there 's 
no  need  of  seeing  him  about  anything 
when  he 's  hungry.  Come  and  give  me 
your  society  until  after  dinner,  and  I  '11  tell 
you  when  to  speak  to  him.  I  've  an  idea." 

The  cook  was  a  sallow-faced  young  man 
with  red  eyes  and  thin  red  whiskers.  His 
name  was  Yanni,  and  he  aimed  to  be  a 
philosopher. 

"  Has  the  good  man  been  fasting,  then, 
for  a  long  time? "  asked  Anastasi. 

"  From  seven  o'clock  this  morning," 
replied  Yanni. 

"Why,  I  don't  call  that  fasting  at  all," 
cried  Anastasi.  "  St.  Anthony  used  to  eat 
only  once  every  two  or  three  days." 

But  the  cook  was  too  busy  at  that 
moment  to  continue  the  conversation. 
Anastasi,  who  was  handy  about  the  kitchen, 
laid  aside  his  precious  book  and  helped. 
He  brought  fresh  water  from  the  spring, 
washed  some  dishes  that  were  lying  in  the 

sink,  tended  the  fire,  and  set  the  table  for 

106 


Father  Anthony 


the  eighteen  monks  who  made  up  the  little 
community  of  the  monastery.  While  thus 
employed,  the  church  bell  rang. 

"What's  that?"  asked  Anastasi. 

"That's  the  noon  call  for  thanksgiving 
services,"  replied  the  cook;  "they  all  go 
into  church  now,  and  thank  God  for  the 
food  they're  about  to  sit  down  to.  Then 
they  come  into  the  dining-room  and 
grumble  if  it  don't  suit  them.  I  wonder 
why  they  don't  have  that  service  after 
dinner?  Then,  if  there  was  anything  they 
did  n't  like  about  the  food  they  could  com 
plain  in  the  proper  quarter." 

This  flippancy  shocked  Anastasi  inex 
pressibly,  but  he  reflected  that  his  compan 
ion  was,  after  all,  only  a  novice,  and, 
therefore,  not  perfect  in  grace. 

Soon  a  tramping  of  feet  was  heard  in 
the  great  dining-hall,  the  scraping  of  chairs 
on  the  floor,  and  the  confused  sound  of 
many  voices  in  conversation.  The  cook 

took   down  a  huge  copper  pan   from   the 
107 


The  Tempting  of 

wall,  and  placing  it  on  the  altar  already 
described,  poured  in  the  steaming  stew. 
Seizing  the  dish  by  each  handle,  and  rest 
ing  the  edge  against  his  stomach,  he 
disappeared  within  the  dining-hall.  Anas- 
tasi  tip-toed  to  the  door  and  looked  in. 
The  holy  fathers  were  seated  on  wooden 
benches,  placed  each  side  of  a  long  table, 
with  the  venerable  superior  at  their  head. 
With  one  exception  they  were  old  men, 
with  gray  hair,  and  flowing  beards  of  the 
same  color.  Their  black  robes  gave  them 
an  extremely  solemn  and  reverend  appear 
ance.  One  thing  that  impressed  Anastasi 
especially  was  the  immense  size  of  the  hall, 
making  the  monks  seem  fewer  even  than 
they  were.  This  effect  was  increased  by  the 
barrenness  of  floor  and  walls.  The  only 
adornment  was  the  eikon  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  surrounded  by  small  pictures  of  the 
Byzantine  emperors.  This  hung  over  the 
head  of  the  table,  and  an  olive-oil  lamp 
was  burning  feebly  in  front  of  it. 

108 


Father  Anthony 


The  cook  set  the  stew  in  the  middle  of 
the  board,  and  stepping  respectfully  back, 
stood  with  bowed  head  while  the  monks 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  A  ray  of 
golden  sunlight  streamed  in  through  a 
window,  and  fell  like  a  halo  on  the  gray 
head  of  the  father  superior.  Anastasi  was 
much  impressed.  As  soon  as  the  meal 
began,  however,  he  was  shocked  to  see  how 
heartily  the  monks  ate,  dipping  great 
chunks  of  bread  into  the  stew,  and  quaffing 
goblets  of  yellow  resin  wine.  They  were 
merry,  too,  as  children,  bantering  each 
other  and  relating  anecdotes.  Occasionally 
a  roar  of  laughter  went  round  the  board, 
the  father  superior  joining  in  as  heartily  as 
the  others.  Anastasi  could  not  find  any 
record  of  hearty  eating  or  of  laughter 
in  his  "Life  of  St.  Anthony."  While 
he  was  pondering  these  things,  the  cook 
bustled  out  and  set  him  to  grinding 
coffee.  Anastasi  had  often  made  coffee 

at    home,   so    without    further    instruction, 
109 


The  Tempting  of 

he  made  eighteen  cups,  strong  and  sweet, 
while  the  cook  was  busy  clearing  away 
the  dishes,  and  getting  old  George's  dinner 
ready  from  the  scraps.  Old  George  was  a 
hundred  and  two  years  of  age,  and  had 
been  a  pensioner  at  the  monastery  for 
forty  years. 

After  dinner,  the  father  superior  rose 
and  went  to  his  cell.  The  others  rolled 
cigarettes,  and  waited  for  their  black  coffee. 
When  the  cook  rushed  into  the  kitchen, 
demanding  of  Anastasi  if  he  had  finished 
grinding  the  coffee,  he  found  the  latter 
pouring  the  muddy  liquid  into  the  little 
cups. 

"  Oh,  my  ill-fortune! "  groaned  the  cook. 
"  You  've  ruined  the  coffee.  What  shall  I 
do?  "  Picking  up  one  of  the  cups,  he  tasted 
the  decoction  with  a  long,  thin  sip,  followed 
by  a  loud  smack. 

"Perhaps  it'll  do,"  he  said;  "but  you 
should  have  waited  for  me." 

What  was  Anastasi's  delight,  a  moment 


no 


Father  Anthony 

later,  to  hear  the  youngest  one  of  the  monks 
call  out:  "Yanni,  you've  outdone  yourself 
to-day.  This  coffee  is  a  masterpiece." 

The  brother  who  made  this  remark  was 
about  thirty-five  years  of  age.  He  was  tall, 
well-formed,  and  strikingly  handsome.  He 
had  liquid-brown  eyes,  a  large,  straight 
nose,  silky,  black  beard,  parted  in  the  mid 
dle  of  his  chin,  and  a  mustache  that  grew 
up  in  such  a  way  as  to  expose  his  full,  red 
lips.  His  complexion  was  a  clear  dark, 
through  which  the  blood  shone  like  fire 
shines  through  smoked  glass. 

'You've  saved  me,"  said  Yanni,  glee 
fully,  coming  into  the  kitchen  again.  "  Some 
day,  maybe,  I  '11  tell  you  why  I  was  so 
frightened.  Here,  take  the  father  supe 
rior's  coffee  in  to  him.  It  will  give  you  a 
good  chance  to  have  your  say." 

Anastasi  went  into  the  presence  of  the 
father  superior  with  considerable  trepida 
tion,  which  did  not  vanish  until  he  looked 
into  the  eyes  of  that  really  good  man. 


The  Tempting  of 

Ingenuous  as  a  child,  kind-hearted,  sim 
ple,  the  first  tone  of  his  voice,  his  first  kindly 
glance  was  sufficient  to  betray  the  sweetness 
of  his  soul.  He  was  seated  at  a  writing- 
desk,  busied  with  his  accounts.  On  one 
side  of  the  cell  was  a  leather-covered 
lounge.  Three  chairs  and  a  book-case 
completed  the  furnishing  of  the  room.  The 
book-case  was  filled  with  huge  theological 
works,  bound  in  brown  leather,  and  with 
others  of  a  similar  nature,  unbound.  It  also 
contained  a  number  of  valuable  parchments, 
and  the  charter  of  the  monastery,  a  great 
document,  in  beautiful  Greek  chirography, 
written  by  a  hand  that  ceased  its  labors 
three  hundred  years  ago.  From  this  latter 
manuscript  dangled  a  copper  seal,  attached 
to  a  long  ribbon.  Anastasi  saw  nothing,  of 
course,  but  the  big  books;  but  he  soon 
learned  to  share  in  the  general  awe  of  the 
father  superior,  as  the  only  man  about  the 
institution  who  could  read  the  mysterious 
old  papers  in  the  library.  For  the  hegou- 


112 


Father  Anthony 

menos  was  an  educated  man,  and  having 
the  natural  instincts  of  the  scholar,  had 
dabbled  much  during  his  leisure  in  the  fas 
cinating  study  of  paleography.  The  walls 
of  his  cell  were  adorned  with  crude  engrav 
ings  of  the  principal  Greek  monasteries — 
that  at  Tenos,  those  of  Mount  Athos,  and 
others,  and  on  one  side  hung  a  huge  chart, 
covered  with  portraits  of  all  the  Byzantine 
emperors.  Anastasi  thought  they  were  all 
saints,  and  wondered  much  that  so  many  of 
them  wore  helmets  and  swords.  The  idea 
flashed  through  his  head  that  they  had  been 
thus  accoutred  for  great  conflicts  with  the 
devil.  He  set  the  coffee  down  on  the  table 
at  the  father  superior's  elbow,  and  stood 
waiting.  The  good  man  pulled  the  cup 
toward  him  mechanically  with  his  left 
hand,  but  continued  figuring  with  his  right, 
without  looking  up.  After  a  few  moments, 
Anastasi  coughed. 

"  Oh,  you  're  there  yet,  are  you,  Yanni  ? " 
said  a  sweet,  low  voice.    "  How  many  goats 


The  Tempting  of 

have  you  bought  this  week?  We  must  cut 
down  expenses  for  awhile  now.  We  're 
running  behind.  Ach!  we're  not  so  rich  in 
worldly  goods  as  we  used  to  be." 

"  I  never  bought  a  goat  in  my  life,  your 
reverence,"  replied  Anastasi.  "I'm  not 
Yanni  at  all." 

The  hegoumenos  turned  around  and 
looked  up,  inquiringly. 

"I  am  Anastasi  of  Damala,"  continued 
the  young  man,  "  and  I  have  come  all  the 
way  from  my  town  to  become  a  saint."  In 
his  confusion,  he  had  let  the  cat  out  the 
bag. 

The  hegoumenos  smiled. 

"  One  is  often  obliged  to  go  further  than 
that  to  become  a  saint,"  he  said. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  a  saint,  I  meant  a 
monk,"  stammered  Anastasi. 

The  holy  father  extended  his  left  hand 
and  pulled  the  young  man  toward  him. 
"Sit  down  here  and  tell  me  all  about  it,"  he 

said. 

114 


Father  Anthony 


Anastasi  obeyed. 

"I  am  the  son  of  Papa  Evangelos 
Kriezes,  of  Damala,"  he  began.  "  All  the 
world  there  thinks  I  am  to  take  the  church 
when  my  father  retires;  but  I  have  been  read 
ing  the  '  Life  of  St.  Anthony,'  and  I  want 
to  become  a  great  man  like  him.  I  want 
to  watch  and  pray,  and  have  great  battles 
with  the  devil.  I  don't  want  to  spend  my 
life  eating  white  church  bread  and  goats' 
eyes,  and  sleeping  in  the  shade.  Neither 
will  I  marry.  I  believe  woman  to  be  the 
greatest  bait  the  devil  has.  He  tempted 
St.  Anthony  worst  with  a  woman." 

The  old  man  did  not  reply  for  a 
moment.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  was  puzzled. 
This  was  strange  language,  and  yet  he  had 
read  of  just  such  enthusiasts  in  the  brown 
leather  books  above  him. 

"I  know  your  father  well,"  he  said;  "he 
is  a  man  much  beloved;  there  are  few 
better  priests  or  better  Christians  than  he 
is.  There  are  some  saints,  my  boy,  who 

"5 


The  Tempting  of 

eat  white  bread  and  sleep  in  the  shade; 
would  to  God  there  were  no  Christians  who 
had  worse  failings.  Do  you  come  here 
with  your  father's  consent?" 

"  No,  I  went  to  a  cave  like  St.  Anthony, 
and  the  devil  appeared  to  me  in  many 
different  ways,  and  I  resisted  him;  but  then 
I  thought  I  would  come  to  this  monas 
tery  and  live  here  among  these  good 
men,  and  take  lessons  from  them,  until  I 
learned  how  a  saint  should  act  under  all 
circumstances.  Oh,  don't  turn  me  away, 
good  hegoumene,  don't,  don't! "  There 
were  tears  in  Anastasi's  eyes,  and  he  held 
out  his  hands  imploringly. 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  father  superior; 
"don't  be  uneasy,  my  boy;  I'll  write  to 
Papa  Evangelos  to  come  here  and  we'll 
talk  the  matter  over  together;  besides,  I 
long  to  see  his  kindly  face  again,  and  to 
grasp  him  by  the  hand.  Now  go,  and  send 
Yanni  to  me." 

"  Well,"    announced    the    cook,    a   few 

116 


Father  Anthony 

minutes  later,  coming  into  the  kitchen, 
"  I  'm  to  give  you  your  food  and  a  bed  until 
further  notice,  so  it  looks  as  if  you  were  to 
become  one  of  us  after  all." 


117 


The  Tempting  of 


X. 


THAT  very  evening  a  youthful  Phldip- 
pides  brought  to  Papa  Evangelos 
news  of  his  son's  whereabouts.  The  hegou- 
menos  had  wasted  no  time,  knowing  how  his 
aged  friend  would  worry.  The  priest  had, 
in  fact,  become  nearly  insane,  now  that 
his  anxiety  was  really  aroused  concerning 
Anastasi,  and  he  had  surprised  his  wife  by 
a  violent  outburst,  in  which  he  accused  her 
of  driving  the  boy  away  by  undue  severity. 
He  had  not  taken  his  siesta  on  the  day  fol 
lowing  Anastasi's  second  disappearance. 
This  was  so  extraordinary  an  occurrence, 
that  even  the  kitten  showed  signs  of 
uneasiness,  walking  to  and  fro  and  mewing. 
The  priest  had  begun  to  imagine  all  sorts 
of  evils  in  connection  with  his  son.  The 
thing  which  he  had  most  comprehended  of 

the  boy's  strange  behavior  was,  that  he  did 

ill 


Father  Anthony 


not  wish  to  take  the  church  after  his 
own  retirement.  This,  in  itself,  was  a  great 
disappointment. 

"  I  am  getting  old,"  he  thought;  "  I  had 
hoped  soon  to  see  Anastasi  married  and 
the  father  of  a  child — a  dear  little  grand 
child.  Then  he  could  have  taken  the 
church  and  I  could  have  retired.  I  might 
thus  pass  my  declining  years,  loved  by  my 
neighbors,  surrounded  by  my  children  and 
my  children's  children;  and  when  I  had 
become,  feeble,  what  greater  satisfaction 
than  to  see  my  own  son  doing  my  work. 
Oh,  God  grant  even  yet  that  this  may  be." 

As  the  day  wore  on,  he  grew  more 
apprehensive  concerning  the  boy.  Perhaps 
he  had  run  away  again,  never  to  return; 
perhaps  he  had  lost  his  mind;  perhaps  he  had 
committed  suicide.  The  papadia  believed 
that  the  boy  had  run  away  simply  through 
spite,  but  she  said  nothing,  for  at  heart  she 
felt  a  little  ashamed  of  the  part  which  she 

had  played  at  the  cave. 
119 


The  Tempting  of 

Nor  did  she  make  any  reply  to  her  hus 
band's  accusations,  when  he  said,  fiercely: 
"We  found  him  once  and  you  drove  him 
away.  Who  knows  where  to  look  for  him 
now?" 

The  messenger  had  no  difficulty  in  find 
ing  the  parsonage,  and  there  sat  the  good 
priest  on  the  stone  bench,  his  head  between 
his  hands. 

"  Good  morning,  your  reverence,"  said 
a  strange  voice. 

Father  Evangelos  looked  up  quickly. 
"Good  morning,"  he  said;  "do  you  bring 
me  news  of  Anastasi?  " 

For  reply,  the  messenger  took  from  within 
his  bosom  a  letter,  much  soiled  with  perspi 
ration  and  dust.  The  priest  tore  open  the 
missive  with  trembling  hands,  and  read  it 
eagerly.  Then  he  danced  about  on  the 
hard-beaten  ground  till  his  hair  slipped  its 
pins  and  fell  down  his  back.  He  threw  his 
arms  around  the  messenger  and  patted  him 
between  the  shoulders,  saying:  "Good  boy, 


Father  Anthony 


good  boy,"  in  one  breath,  and  calling 
"  Papadia!  Papadia!"  with  the  next. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  ?" 
asked  Kuria  Kriezes,  coming  to  the  door  ; 
her  long  distaff  grew  out  of  her  belt  like  a 
branch  from  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  while  the 
little  crotch  at  its  upper  end  blossomed  with 
a  white  ball  of  wool.  Perikles  hung  on  to 
her  dress  from  behind,  and  peeped  around 
over  her  hip. 

"Anastasi's  found,  papadia.  He's  at 
the  monastery  and  wants  to  become  a  monk  ; 
I  know  how  that  is  ;  I  had  that  idea  myself 
when  I  was  a  young  man.  The  father 
superior  says  I  had  better  come  to  the 
monastery.  I  shall  start  in  the  morning. 
I'll  soon  talk  Anastasi  over  and  have  him 
back  here." 

"  Nonsense.  To  think  of  taking  such  a 
journey  at  your  time  of  life!  I  '11  go  myself, 
rather." 

The  priest  patted  her  wrinkled  cheek. 
"A  mother's  love  works  wonders,  1  know," 


121 


The  Tempting  of 

he  said,  "  but  since  the  hegoumenos  invites 
me — eh?  I'll  borrow  the  demarch's  ass, 
Faithful,  and  shall  have  a  very  pleasant 
journey." 

The  next  morning  the  papadia  helped 
her  husband  upon  the  mule,  and  half 
Damala  gathered  around  to  wish  him  a  safe 
journey  and  a  joyful  return.  Soon  he  was 
toiling  down  the  steep  mountainside  on  the 
animal's  back.  He  entered  a  narrow  defile, 
and  gradually  disappeared,  the  last  thing 
that  was  seen  of  him  being  his  inverted 
stove-.pipe  hat  bobbing  up  and  down  between 
the  rocks.  Despite  the  predictions  of  his 
wife,  he  made  the  entire  journey  in  safety, 
the  only  real  difficulty  which  he  encountered 
occurring  at  the  ferry.  Here  the  boatman 
wished  him  to  dismount,  but  Father  Evan- 
gelos,  fearful  of  compromising  his  dignity, 
urged  the  mule  into  the  small  rowboat,  and 
crossed  the  ferry  on  the  animal 's  back, 
holding  his  white  umbrella  above  his  head. 


133 


Father  Anthony 

Thus  he  went  into  Poros  in  the  most  dig 
nified  manner  possible,  looking  like  an 
equestrian  statue  of  benevolence  designed 
for  the  public  square. 


123 


The  Tempting  of 


XI. 

PAPA  EVANGELOS  was  received  by 
the  father  superior  with  demonstra 
tions  of  unfeigned  delight.  The  two  old 
men  had  been  warmest  friends  from  youth, 
but  had  not  met  in  twenty-five  years. 
Many  affectionate  messages  had  passed  be 
tween  them,  and  each  had  yearned  deeply 
to  shake  the  other  by  the  hand  once  more, 
but  neither  had  dreamed  of  making  the 
necessary  journey.  Father  Evangelos  be 
longed  to  the  town  of  Damala,  and  there  he 
stayed.  The  hegoumenos  had  not  been  out 
of  sight  of  the  monastery  in  a  quarter  of 
a  century,  and  the  tall  cypress  tree  in  the 
court  could  have  made  an  excursion  as 
easily  as  he.  Now  that  necessity  had 
brought  the  two  together  again,  they  em 
braced  with  mutual  kisses,  patting  each 
other  on  the  back  and  weeping. 


Father  Anthony 

Glory  to  God  that  I  see  you  once  more!" 
Bright  is  the  day  that  brings  you  to 


me! 


Arm  in  arm  they  passed  through  the 
arched  door,  chattering  the  interminable 
Greek  salutations. 

"  How  are  you?" 

"  How  do  you  do?" 

"  How  are  you  getting  along?" 

"Are  you  well?" 

"You're  well,  are  you?"  and  so  forth  in 
definitely.  The  hegoumenos  led  Papa 
Evangelos  to  the  leather  sofa  and  sat  down 
beside  him. 

"It's  years  that  I  have  n't  seen  you," 
said  the  monk,  laying  his  hand  on  that  of 
the  priest.  The  latter  set  his  tall  hat  upon 
the  floor,  and  wiped  his  brow  with  the  hem 
of  his  robe. 

"  We  are  growing  old,"  he  sighed.  "  The 
last  time  I  saw  you  I  had  no  boy  to  worry 
about.  Where's  the  rascal?" 

"  Easy,  easy,"  replied  the  hegoumenos, 
125 


The  Tempting  of 

"let's  talk  the  matter  over  first.  He's  a 
fine  fellow,  that  boy,  straight  as  a  roasting 
spit  and  has  the  very  curls  his  father  used 
to  have.  He's  been  reading  the  '  Lives 
of  the  Saints,'  and  wants  to  become  a  monk 
first  and  a  great  saint  afterwards.  He 's 
full  of  ideas  about  watching  and  fasting. 
He  thinks  women  are  the  devil's  hand 
maidens,  and  never  wants  to  see  one  of 
them.  Now,  we  mustn't  go  too  fast.  These 
may  be  transient  notions,  or  there  may  be 
the  making  of  a  great  evangelist  in  the  boy. 
Wait  till  after  dinner;  I'll  order  a  goat 
killed  and  we'll  have  the  head  between  us. 
I  have  some  wine  from  our  own  grapes  and 
resin.  You  shall  take  home  a  bottle  of  it." 
"I  'm  growing  old,"  repeated  the  priest. 

"  I  wanted  Anastasi  to  take  my  place  after 

>  > 
me. 

"Bah!  bah!  bah!  your  flock  won't  let 
you  go  for  twenty  years  yet,  and  besides, 
you  've  another  boy.  1  '11  tell  you  now  that 

I  am  in  favor  of  giving  Anastasi  a  trial. 
126 


Father  Anthony 


Our  monasteries  need  new  blood.  The  old 
men  are  dying  off  and  no  young  ones  are 
coming  in.  Where  we  used  to  have  eighty 
monks  we  now  have  only  eighteen.  There 's 
only  one  young  man  among  us.  Perhaps 
Anastasi  is  called  of  the  Lord  to  revive  our 
monastery  life.  But  we'll  settle  it  all  after 
dinner.  Let's  talk  of  old  times  now." 

Papa  Evangelos  dined  at  the  right  hand 
of  the  hegoumenos  that  day.  During  the 
feast  the  monk  speared  one  of  the  goat's 
eyes  and  handed  it  on  his  own  fork  to 
the  priest.  Then  he  speared  the  other, 
and  the  old  men  ate  the  two  morsels 
simultaneously,  sucking  them  and  smack 
ing  their  lips. 

"I  never  eat  a  goat's  eye  without  think 
ing  of  my  mother,"  said  the  hegoumenos; 
"it  was  a  favorite  proverb  of  hers,  'Who 
eats  goat's  eyes  eats  his  sisters.'*  Ah, 
me!  my  sister  is  dead  now  fifteen  years. 

*  Namely,  eats  his  sisters'  doweries  through  extrava 
gance. 

127 


The  Tempting  of 

You  remember  little  Irene?  I  thought  once 
that  you  would  be  my  brother-in-law." 

So  they  fell  to  talking  of  old  times,  and 
Anastasi  was  for  the  moment  forgotten. 

After  dinner  the  boy  had  a  long  talk 
with  his  father,  affirming  his  determina 
tion  to  become  a  second  St.  Anthony,  and 
it  seemed  to  the  priest  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world  to  leave  his  son  in 
care  of  his  old  friend. 

"  I  '11  keep  on  myself,"  said  Father  Evan- 
gelos,  "  till  Perikles  is  able  to  take  the 
church,  and  thus  shall  I  give  both  my 
sons  to  the  Lord." 

At  four  o'clock,  when  the  shadows  of  the 
cypress  and  date-palm  in  the  monastery 
court  had  lengthened  till  they  fell  athwart 
the  further  wall,  and  the  winding  road 
above  the  sea  lay  in  the  shade  of  the 
pines,  Papa  Evangelos  kissed  his  friend 
good  by,  blessed  his  son,  and  mounted  his 
mule.  A  demijohn  of  the  monastery's  best 


128 


Papa  Evangelos  mounted  his  mule. 


Father  Anthony 

wine  hung  at  his  saddle-bow.  Shortly 
after  the  old  man's  departure,  Anastasi 
felt  a  great  regret  sweep  over  him,  which 
he  tried  in  vain  to  choke  down  as  a  tempta 
tion  of  the  devil.  His  father  had  always 
been  very  kind  to  him.  After  a  severe 
struggle  he  compromised  with  his  soul, 
and  went  down  the  road  a  little  way  to 
catch  one  more  glimpse  of  the  departing 
figure,  if  possible.  Not  seeing  what  he 
sought,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  narrow 
isthmus  that  lay  in  the  distance  like  a  slen 
der  thread  between  two  shining  stretches 
of  sea.  By  this  neck  of  land  must  the 
old  man  pass  over  into  Poros.  Anastasi 
had  not  long  to  wait.  A  little  black  mule 
trotted  onto  the  isthmus,  bearing  a  ven 
erable  man  who  wore  a  high  hat  and  a 
long,  black  robe  that  floated  gracefully 
over  the  animal's  haunches.  The  sea  shim 
mered  in  the  afternoon's  sun  like  a  vast 
stretch  of  molten  silver,  and  the  mule 


129 


The  Tempting  of 

and  his  rider  stood  out  on  the  thread 
of  sand  distinct  as  a  silhouette.  While 
Anastasi  looked  they  seemed  to  slide 
from  one  world  into  another  and  were 
gone. 


130 


Father  Anthony 


XII. 

ANASTASI  was  given  a  narrow,  high 
cell,  with  whitewashed  walls.  These 
latter  were  so  thick  that  the  window  lead 
ing  into  the  outer  world  was  like  a  tunnel. 
Looking  through,  he  could  see  a  patch  of 
pines,  and  a  bit  of  white  road  winding  down 
by  the  sea. 

His  duties  were  various.  He  assisted 
the  cook,  kept  the  court-yard  clean,  and 
when  necessity  arose,  worked  in  the  vine 
yard.  Besides,  he  was  obliged  to  make 
up  his  own  bed  and  keep  his  cell  in 
order.  On  the  whole,  his  life  was  not 
a  very  hard  one.  In  the  prosperous  days 
of  the  monastery,  it  had  owned  extensive 
orange  and  lemon  groves,  and  its  body 
of  monks  were  a  busy  community.  Years 
ago,  however,  a  blight  had  fallen  on  the 
trees  and  destroyed  them  utterly.  Now, 


The  Tempting  of 

the  property  consisted  only  of  a  few  grape 
vines,  and  an  olive  grove  on  the  hillside. 

Neither  was  Anastasi  required  to  study. 
His  probation  was  of  conduct  rather  than 
of  knowledge.  Finding  himself,  therefore, 
regularly  entered  upon  the  monastic  life, 
he  devoted  himself  with  renewed  zeal  to 
the  study  of  the  character  and  teachings 
of  the  great  St.  Anthony. 

He  also  observed  carefully  the  conduct 
of  the  good  men  who  surrounded  him, 
and  he  was  much  encouraged  to  notice 
that  they  did  not  crucify  the  flesh  as 
St.  Anthony  had  done,  nor  did  he  hear 
that  any  pitched  battles  with  the  powers 
of  darkness  had  taken  place  within  the 
monastery  walls.  The  more  he  thought 
of  the  matter,  the  more  convinced  he  be 
came  that  the  time  was  ripe  for  the  ap 
pearance  of  another  great  saint.  Most 
of  the  monks  led  good  enough  lives;  but 
none  of  them  seemed  to  rise  above  the 

plane  of  ordinary  goodness.     There  were 
132 


Father  Anthony 


several,  moreover,  whom  Anastasi  regard 
ed  as  positive  sinners.  One  old  brother, 
in  particular,  was  overfond  of  the  wine 
cup.  When  picnic  parties  came  to  the 
spring,  Father  Joseph  would  go  and  talk 
with  them  for  the  sake  of  being  offered 
wine.  Sometimes  they  spoke  rudely  to 
him  and  sent  him  away.  At  other  times 
they  gave  the  old  man  so  much  to  drink 
that  he  became  silly.  He  was  a  pitiful 
figure,  for  his  blossoming  nose  and  cheeks, 
and  his  silly,  bleary  eyes  harmonized  but 
poorly  with  his  venerable  beard  and  the 
holy  robes  which  he  wore. 

Another  of  the  monks  was  a  glutton. 
He  ate  enormously  at  table;  and  during 
the  long  fasts,  he  showed  no  signs  of 
having  denied  himself.  Anastasi,  there 
fore,  watched  him  carefully,  and  found 
that  he  concealed  food  in  his  cell.  This 
monk  had  a  round,  jolly  face,  and  little 
pig  eyes.  He  puffed  when  he  walked, 
blowing  his  lips  apart  with  sudden  explo- 
133 


The  Tempting  of 

sions.  His  stomach  was  enormous,  and 
his  downy  beard  grew  in  tufts  on  his 
rosy  cheeks.  He  looked  for  all  the  world 
like  Falstaff  masquerading  in  a  cassock. 

A  third  brother  was  too  fond  of  gossip. 
When  families  came  to  stay  a  week  or 
so  at  the  monastery,  as  often  happened, 
he  would  worm  out  of  them  all  their  pri 
vate  history,  and  would  talk  about  them 
in  a  very  worldly  way  afterward.  Noth 
ing  delighted  him  more  than  to  converse 
for  hours  with  some  old  woman  about 
subjects  not  usually  discussed  between  the 
sexes.  Whenever  he  could  get  hold  of  a 
young  married  couple  he  would  give  them 
advice  on  delicate  matters  till  the  lady 
often  ran  away  blushing.  Several  times 
had  complaints  been  made  to  the  father 
superior  regarding  this  monk.  Although 
Anastasi  pried  into  all  these  matters  early 
in  his  life  in  the  monastery,  yet  he  did 
not  feel  that  his  time  was  yet  ripe  for 
correcting  the  abuses. 
'34 


Father  Anthony 


"I  will  wait,"  he  thought,  "till  I  am  a 
monk,  like  the  rest  of  them,  and  then  I  will 
make  a  reform  in  this  monastery." 

In  the  meantime,  Anastasi  surprised  even 
the  hegoumenos  by  his  austerity.  Keeping 
his  private  saint  continually  before  his 
mind's  eye,  he  strove  ever  more  and  more 
to  imitate  him.  He  ate  very  little,  and  con 
fined  his  diet  as  much  as  possible  to  bread, 
water,  and  olives.  He  grew  thin  and  sal 
low,  and  so  serious  of  aspect  that  he  gave 
the  impression  of  an  old  soul  in  a  young 
body.  Night  after  night,  when  every  one 
else  was  sleeping  peacefully,  Anastasi  sat 
up  in  his  cell,  watching  for  the  devil. 

"  If  I  could  win  some  great  victory  now 
in  the  beginning,"  he  thought,  "what  a 
superiority  it  would  give  me  over  these  old 
fathers  who  have  never  done  anything." 

But  his  opportunity  was    not   to  come 

yet — not  till  he  had  become  a  full-fledged 

monk.     At  first,  Yanni,  the  cook,  who  saw 

in  a  new  arrival  an  opportunity  for  com- 

135 


The  Tempting  of 

radeship,  brought  all  the  arguments  of  his 
philosophy  to  bear  upon  Anastasi,  urging 
the  latter  to  enjoy  himself. 

"  I  have  been  very  lonesome  here,"  he 
said,  "but  the  two  of  us  together  can  lead 
a  pleasant  life.  Being  cook,  I  can  hide 
away  many  dainty  morsels,  and  we  can  eat 
and  drink  of  the  best.  Now  I  '11  tell  you  a 
secret.  I  have  changed  my  mind  about 
being  a  monk.  That 's  the  reason  I  cook 
so  well  as  I  do.  As  long  as  I  give  them 
fine  meals,  no  one  suggests  that  I  leave  the 
servant's  rank.  Once  in  awhile  the  hegou- 
menos  says  something  about  it,  but  then  I 
get  up  an  extra  good  dish,  and  he  keeps 
quiet  again  for  a  week  or  so.  All  I  have 
to  do  is  to  burn  a  roast,  or  put  too  much 
salt  in  the  stew,  and  they  '11  all  insist  upon 
my  becoming  a  novice  to-morrow.  But  I  've 
other  ideas  now.  That 's  why  I  was  so  fright 
ened  when  you  made  the  coffee  the  first 
day  you  came.  You  stick  by  me  and  learn 

to  cook,  and  we  '11  see  the  world  together. 

136 


Father  Anthony 

Good  cooks  are  more  in  demand  than 
saints,  these  days." 

When  Anastasi  heard  these  words  his 
thin  nostrils  dilated  like  those  of  a  war- 
horse  sniffing  battle.  Here  was  a  tempta 
tion  of  the  devil. 

"Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan!"  he  said, 
and  thereafter  he  treated  poor  Yanni  with 
such  austere  disdain  that  the  latter  felt 
uncomfortable  at  the  mere  sight  of  him. 


137 


The  Tempting  of 


XIII. 

LIFE  in  a  Greek  monastery  is  intended 
to  be  an  existence  of  gradual  spiritual 
advancement.  One  enters,  in  childhood, 
usually,  as  a  servant  to  one  of  the  monks, 
whom  he  regards  as  his  spiritual  father,  and 
to  whom  he  looks  for  instruction.  The  next 
step  is  that  of  the  novice  (in  Greek  Joju/ao?). 
The  novice  is  tried  as  to  his  ability  to  fast, 
to  go  without  sleep,  and  in  general  to  resist 
the  temptations  of  the  flesh.  He  who  proves 
himself  worthy  in  this  grade  becomes  a 
reader  (MvapoW^?),  so  called  because  he 
reads  certain  services  and  responses  at  the 
daily  liturgies.  Finally  the  reader,  after 
serving  his  apprenticeship,  takes  the  vows, 
and  becomes  a  full-fledged  monk. 

Most  of  the  inhabitants  of  a  monastery 
remain  simple  monks.      As  such   it  is  not 
necessary  for  them  to  be  men  of  learning. 
'38 


Father  Anthony 


There  are  monks  who  cannot  read,  or  even 
write  their  names. 

The  deacons,  priests,  high  priests,  and 
archimandrites  must  be  scholars. 

Anastasi  was  assigned  as  servant  to  the 
handsome  monk — the  one  with  the  large, 
straight  nose,  full,  red  lips,  and  beard  parted 
in  the  middle.  The  boy  was  delighted  with 
his  instructor,  who  had  a  soft  voice,  and 
appeared  to  be  a  most  godly  young  man. 
He  fell  so  naturally  into  the  routine  of  his 
new  life  that  it  seemed  as  though  he  had 
always  lived  in  a  monastery.  Whoever  else 
slept,  Anastasi  was  sure  to  be  on  hand  for 
midnight  prayers,  after  which  he  threw  him 
self  onto  the  bed  in  his  clothing,  that  he 
might  be  punctual  at  early  morning  service. 
How  quickly  the  days  passed!  A  warm  herb 
drink  before  sunrise,  with  a  morsel  of  bread; 
then  work  in  the  vineyard  or  the  woods  till 
noon.  Services  again,  lunch,  more  work, 
prayers,  dinner,  bed.  He  hardly  had  time 
to  open  his  beloved  life  of  Anthony  the 
139 


The  Tempting  of 

Great.  So  earnest  and  industrious  he  was 
that  Father  Demetrius,  for  such  was  the 
handsome  monk's  name,  had  him  made  a 
novice  at  the  end  of  the  first  year. 

In  this  rank  Anastasi  did  not  remain 
over  six  months.  For  who  could  fast  or 
who  could  watch  like  he?  He  put  all  the 
older  monks  to  shame. 

At  the  end  of  another  six  months  he  be 
came  a  reader. 

With  what  joy  and  pride  did  he  hear 
the  superior's  order  that  he  was  to  read 
from  the  "  Lives  of  the  Saints"  each  night, 
while  the  brothers  were  at  dinner.  Here 
was  his  opportunity  to  hold  up  the  absti 
nence  and  sobriety  of  the  blessed  Anthony 
before  the  monks  just  at  the  time  when 
they  needed  such  a  lesson  most. 

The  father  superior  long  remembered 
Anastasi's  first  appearance  as  a  reader. 
The  brothers  were  all  seated  about  the 
table  in  the  long,  high  hall.  A  row  of 

candles    down    the    middle    of    the    board 

140 


Father  Anthony 

threw  a  weird  light  over  their  bearded 
faces  and  black  garments.  Others,  stuck 
in  pieces  of  board  projecting  from  the  wall, 
flickered  dimly  in  the  great  hall,  like  little 
stars  in  a  vast  heaven.  Large  chunks  of 
coarse  bread  lay  by  each  plate,  and  there 
were  two  decanters  filled  with  the  red  wine 
for  which  the  region  is  noted.  Where  the 
candle-light  shone  through  these  they 
seemed  to  be  filled  with  melted  rubies. 
Yanni  came  in,  proudly  bearing  a  stew. 
His  head  was  thrown  back,  and  he  held  the 
great  platter  straight  out  before  him  at 
arm's  length.  The  steam  filled  the  room 
with  grateful  incense.  He  set  the  dish  in 
the  middle  of  the  table,  and  all  the  monks 
began  to  chatter  in  an  excited  manner. 
Their  lives  were  so  monotonous,  and  dinner 
was  the  great  event  of  the  day. 

"  Has  it  egg-plants  in  it,  Yanni?" 

"  No,  courges." 

"  Ah,  courges!  so  much  the  better." 

"  And  a  taste  of  garlic? " 
141 


The  Tempting  of 

"  Certainly,  father,  certainly." 

"Ah,  bless  the  Virgin!" 

"  I  '11  warrant  it 's  a  masterpiece." 

Father  Joseph  filled  his  glass  to  the 
brim  and  took  a  deep  draught. 

"Here's  health,"  he  exclaimed,  smack 
ing  his  lips  loudly. 

"  Don't  let  it  get  cold,"  said  Father 
Spiro,  turning  his  round  face  and  little  pig 
eyes  toward  the  hegoumenos. 

The  latter  silently  dished  out  a  portion 
of  the  stew  upon  each  of  the  plates.  The 
brethren  crossed  themselves  hurriedly,  and 
fell  to  with  much  smacking  of  lips  and 
loud  sucking  of  warm  gravy.  Men  who 
live  without  women  soon  resume  the  man 
ners  of  the  lower  animals.  The  hegou 
menos  nodded  to  Anastasi,  and  a  clear, 
earnest  voice  rang  out  eagerly. 

"And  his  servant  brought  him,  every 
two  or  three  days,  a  piece  of  bread,  and 
none  could  ever  surpass  him  in  fasting,  for 

he  ate   nothing  but  bread  and  water,  and 

142 


Father  Anthony 


that  not  once  a  day,  or  twice  a  day,  but 
once  every  two  or  three  days.  So  he 
strove  ever  to  weaken  his  flesh  that  he 
might  grow  stronger  in  the  graces  of  the 
spirit." 

Several  knives  dropped  upon  the  plates 
with  a  clatter.  Father  Spiro  looked  up, 
his  ruddy  cheeks  bulging  with  bread  and 
gravy.  Father  Joseph  shaded  his  eyes 
with  his  left  hand,  that  he  might  the  better 
see.  His  right  held  poised  in  air  a  piece 
of  bread  soaked  in  red  wine.  Father 
Demetrius  was  just  cracking  a  tender  bone 
with  his  teeth  to  get  at  the  marrow.  The 
light  of  a  candle  shone  upon  his  glistening 
ivories,  his  lips  drawn  back  like  the  lips  of 
a  dog. 

"This  is  a  little  surprise  for  you,"  ex 
plained  the  hegoumenos,  in  a  gentle  voice. 
"I  have  introduced  the  good  old  custom  of 
having  readings  each  night  during  dinner. 
Anastasi  will  entertain  us  with  extracts 
from  the  '  Lives  of  the  Saints.'  ' 

H3 


The  Tempting  of 

There  he  stood  with  his  beloved  book 
open  on  the  tall  lectern,  holding  a  candle 
in  his  right  hand.  His  face  had  grown 
very  thin  through  continued  fasting,  and 
his  dark,  abundant  curls  made  it  look  more 
meager  still.  And  there,  night  after  night, 
he  stood,  an  image  of  superior  godliness, 
reading  to  the  monks  tales  of  abstinence 
and  mortification  of  the  flesh,  while  they 
were  guiltily  eating  of  the  fat  of  the  land. 
Often  Father  Joseph  lifted  his  wine-glass 
with  trembling  hand,  and  muttered: 

'  This  St.  Anthony  will  drive  me  to 
drink;"  and  Father  Spiro  would  stuff  his 
ruddy  cheeks  with  food,  grumbling: 

"Such  tales  of  starvation!  It  makes  me 
hungry  to  hear  them." 


Father  Anthony 


XIV. 

ANASTASI  was  barely  twenty,  though 
he  looked  double  that  age,  when  the 
hegoumenos  wrote  to  good  Papa  Evangelos 
in  Damala: 

"  My  dear  brother  in  Christ — Greeting: 
I  see  no  reason  why  Anastasi  should  not 
take  the  irrevocable  step,  and  put  on  the 
holy  robes  of  our  order.  Such  abstinence, 
such  earnestness,  such  devotion,  I  have 
seldom  seen  in  a  novice.  He  has  taken  for 
his  model  St.  Anthony  the  Great,  of  Egypt, 
and  has  thus  far  proved  himself  a  not 
unworthy  follower  of  so  eminent  a  teacher. 
The  ceremony  of  his  ordination  will  take 
place  on  the  next  anniversary  of  St. 
Anthony's  birth,  one  week  from  to-day.  If 
possible,  I  pray  you  to  join  us  on  the  occa 
sion,  not  only  that  you  may  see  your  son's 
ordination,  but  that  I  may  again  look  upon 

MS 


The  Tempting  of 

the  face  of  my  old  and  dear  friend.  Greet 
ings  and  love  to  your  family,  and  to  all  the 
Christian  brethren  and  sisters  of  your  little 
flock.  Peace  be  with  you. 

"  DEMETRIOS,  HEGOUMENOS." 

But  Papa  Evangelos  reminded  the  hegou- 
menos  that  he  had  made  the  great  journey 
only  three  years  ago.  "  I  am  too  old  now," 
he  said,  "  to  think  of  leaving  my  native  vil 
lage,  and  of  wandering  in  far  distant  coun 
tries,  except  it  were  for  some  matter  of  life 
and  death,  or  the  salvation  of  a  soul.  I  feel 
that  Anastasi  is  perfectly  safe  with  you,  my 
dear  brother.  I  yearn  ever  to  clasp  you  in 
my  arms  again,  but  I  do  not  consider  Anas- 
tasi's  ordination  sufficient  reason  for  me  to 
cross  the  sea,  and  to  pass  a  night  beneath 
a  foreign  roof.  My  soul  rejoices  greatly  at 
the  boy's  spiritual  progress.  Love  to  him 
and  to  you,  and  the  peace  that  passeth 
understanding  be  with  you  all. 

"  EVANGELOS,  THE  PRIEST." 


Father  Anthony 

On  the  eve  of  St.  Anthony's  day  all  the 
candles  in  the  monastery  church  were 
lighted.  The  brothers  waited  within,  ex 
pectantly,  whispering  together  in  groups. 
The  hegoumenos,  who  was  also  a  high 
priest,  sat  in  the  tall-backed  chair  at  one 
side  of  the  nave.  From  the  chancel  screen, 
the  Holy  Virgin,  chubby-faced  and  wearing 
a  golden  halo,  looked  down  upon  the  gath 
ering.  At  her  right  and  left  were  a  goodly 
throng  of  saints,  all  done  by  a  Byzantine 
artist;  St.  John  the  Baptist,  Michael  with  a 
flashing  sword,  George  and  the  dragon,  St. 
Thomas  praying  for  his  murderers,  and 
many  others.  At  either  side  of  the  chancel 
door  stood  a  brass  candlestick,  high  as  a 
man,  and  in  both  of  them  candles  were 
burning.  So  light  was  the  interior  that  the 
rich  gilding  on  the  chancel  screen  and  the 
halos  of  the  saints  glistened  with  barbaric 
splendor.  Even  the  double-headed  eagle 
of  the  Byzantine  emperors,  carved  in  a  mar 
ble  slab  of  the  flooring,  could  be  distinctly 
H7 


The  Tempting  of 

seen.  What  was  Father  Joseph  thinking 
of  as  he  stood  looking  down  at  it?  The 
last  Palseologus  is  for  centuries  dead.  His 
descendants  are  hewers  of  wood  and  car 
riers  of  water.  His  people  have  long  been 
slaves  to  the  infidel,  yet  that  double-headed 
eagle  in  the  monastery  church  looked  up  at 
Father  Joseph  as  proudly  as  when,  centuries 
ago,  it  had  been  the  symbol  of  an  emperor's 
magnificence  and  power. 

Was  the  monk  thinking  of  this,  as  he 
stood  looking  at  the  ancient  slab,  or  was  he 
meditating  on  his  warm  bed  and  the  flask 
of  old  cognac  under  his  pillow?  Let  us  be 
as  charitable  as  the  circumstances  will 
admit. 

At  midnight  Yanni  seized  the  rope  dan 
gling  from  the  little  church  tower,  and  rang 
the  bell  vigorously.  Immediately  there 
after  Anastasi  entered  the  building,  naked 
as  a  newly-born  babe.  He  was  accom 
panied  by  his  spiritual  god-father,  the  hand 
some  young  priest,  carrying  upon  his  arm 
148  ' 


Father  Anthony 


a  black  cassock,  and  the  other  sacred  vest 
ments  of  a  monk. 

The  hegoumenos  conducted  the  services 
with  great  solemnity.  Anastasi  vowed  to 
renounce  the  world,  women,  and  the  devil. 
To  fast  and  to  pray,  and  to  live  at  peace 
with  his  brothers  in  Christ.  And  finally  to 
observe  faithfully  all  the  rules  of  the  church 
and  of  the  monastic  order  which  he  had 
joined.  Then  Father  Demetrius  cut  off  a 
lock  of  Anastasi's  hair  and  glued  it  to  the 
eikon  of  the  Saviour,  there  to  remain  un 
touched  till  it  should  fall  off  of  itself.  By 
his  own  request,  he  was  rechristened  An 
thony,  and  under  that  name  was  enrolled 
upon  the  books  of  the  order.  Finally, 
Demetrius  assisted  him  to  put  on  the  holy 
robes,  and  tied  him  about  with  a  cincture. 

All  the  brothers  kissed  him,  beginning 
with  the  hegoumenos,  and  he  walked  out  of 
the  church  with  a  bent  head  and  a  proud 
heart.  Father  Anthony  went  to  his  cell, 

not    to    pray    for   strength,  but    to   render 
149 


The  Tempting  of 

thanks  to  God  that  his  armor  had  at  last 
been  won,  and  that  he  was  now  ready  to  do 
high  battle  with  the  Prince  of  Darkness  and 
all  the  powers  of  the  air. 


150 


Father  Anthony 


XV. 

FMTHER  ANTHONY  was  a  thorn  of 
increasing  sharpness  in  the  sides  of 
his  less  earnest  brethren.  Before  his  advent 
into  the  monastery,  their  lives  had  flowed 
along  with  serene  monotony,  day  succeed 
ing  day,  and  year,  year,  without  a  ripple  to 
break  the  sluggish  current  of  existence. 
If  there  existed  under-currents  of  human 
weakness,  they  had  not  been  spoken  of ;  if 
little  eddies  of  human  passion  whirled  about 
in  darker  angles  of  the  stream,  no  profane 
hand  had  lifted  the  overhanging  limb  nor 
pointed  them  out  with  prying  finger.  The 
hegoumenos  was  so  deeply  immersed  in  his 
paleography  that  he  observed  none  of  the 
failings  of  his  associates.  He  was,  more 
over,  of  so  sincere  a  nature,  and  so  simply 
pious,  that  he  took  for  granted  equal  blame- 
lessness  in  all  around  him. 


The  Tempting  of 

Father  Anthony  believed  himself  a  man 
with  a  mission.  If  people  so  deluded  are 
often  nuisances  out  in  the  great  world,  how 
much  more  of  an  affliction  must  such  an 
individual  be  whose  activity  is  confined 
within  the  four  walls  surrounding  a  cloister? 

To  do  Father  Anthony  justice,  he  did 
not  go  to  the  hegoumenos  with  complaints. 
He  reproached  the  brothers  with  their  lack 
of  zeal  and  other  failings,  and  continually 
quoted  St.  Anthony  to  them. 

With  a  sad,  sweet  smile,  punctuating  his 
discourse  with  sighs,  he  talked  to  Father 
Joseph  of  the  sin  of  drunkenness,  and  to 
Father  Spiro  of  the  vice  of  gluttony.  He 
advised  the  brothers  to  pray  for  strength, 
and  assured  them  one  by  one  that  he  was 
praying  for  them.  They  could  not  openly 
object  to  this  interest  in  their  spiritual  wel 
fare,  for  the  apostle  from  Damala  was  log 
ically  in  the  right.  Yet  they  felt  uncom 
fortable.  Even  the  offered  prayers  were 
not  received  with  unalloyed  thankfulness. 
152 


Father  Anthony 


In  general,  the  man  who  offers  to  pray  for 
another  is  assuming  too  much  as  to  his  own 
standing  with  the  Throne  of  Grace.  Two- 
thirds  of  the  people  who  pray  for  others 
are  interceding  for  better  men  than  them 
selves. 

Father  Anthony  did  not  remain  in  the 
monastery  over  two  years  longer.  Indeed, 
before  the  first  twelve  months  were  accom 
plished  he  began  to  feel  that  he  was  sow 
ing  his  seed  upon  stony  ground — that  he 
was  affecting  no  reform  among  his  brother 
monks,  and  that  he  was  not  himself  grow 
ing  in  grace  through  association  with 
them.  One  brother  alone  seemed  worthy 
of  his  companionship — Father  Demetrius, 
he  of  the  white  teeth,  ruddy  lips,  and  parted 
beard.  He  always  listened  with  so  much 
deference  to  Anthony,  and  replied  to  him 
in  such  a  rich,  sweet  voice,  that  the  latter 
came  to  regard  the  handsome  monk  as  a 
perfect  type  of  piety  and  gentleness.  To 
Demetrius,  the  zealot  confided  his  struggles 
153 


The  Tempting  of 

and  ambitions,  sure  of  sympathy  for  his 
yearnings  and  comfort  for  his  despair. 

His  loss  of  confidence  in  Demetrius  was 
the  last  straw  that  broke  the  camel 's  back, 
and  caused  Father  Anthony  to  renounce 
entirely  all  communion  with  his  fellow-men. 

On  account  of  the  healthful  location  of 
the  monastery,  its  magnificent  view  of  the 
sea,  and  the  life-giving  properties  of  the 
famous  spring,  many  people  sought  per 
mission  to  remain  for  a  week  or  two  under 
its  roof.  At  first  this  permission  was 
granted  only  to  men,  who  usually  occupied 
vacant  cells  and  ate  at  the  long  table  with 
the  monks.  As  these  always  presented  the 
hegoumenos  with  greater  or  less  sums  on 
leaving,  the  institution  realized  quite  a 
handsome  income  from  its  summer  board 
ers,  a  means  of  revenue  which  was  all  the 
more  welcome  since  the  ruin  of  the  orange 
orchards  by  blight. 

Latterly  this  privilege  had  been  ex 
tended,  and  whole  families  were  granted 

154 


Father  Anthony 


permission  to  put  up  in  the  vacant  cells,  and 
to  cook  their  meals  in  the  great  kitchen. 
The  admission  of  women  to  the  sacred 
precincts  disturbed  Father  Anthony  greatly, 
and  he  often  conferred  with  Demetrius  on 
the  dangers  of  female  society,  and  the 
devil's  predilection  for  women  as  bait. 

But  the  evil  one  rarely  baits  his  hook 
with  a  fat  woman,  and  the  ladies  who  graced 
the  cloister  with  their  presence  were  almost 
invariably  corpulent  mothers  of  families. 

One  bright  day  in  June,  however,  the 
small  community  was  thrown  into  a' flurry 
of  excitement  by  the  arrival  of  guests  of 
unusual  appearance. 

Mr.  Lebessi,  a  Greek  merchant  residing 
in  Marseilles,  had  obtained  permission  to 
remain  for  two  weeks  at  the  monastery,  in 
hopes  that  the  water  and  the  prayers  of  the 
monks  might  cure  him  of  a  kidney  disease 
from  which  he  was  suffering,  He  brought 
with  him  his  wife,  her  sister,  and  a  man 
cook.  The  two  ladies  were  each  about 
155 


The  Tempting  oi 

thirty  or  thirty-five  years  of  age,  respec 
tively,  slender  and  youthful  looking.  They 
dressed  in  chic  French  style  and,  when 
talking  with  each  other,  always  spoke  in  the 
French  tongue.  Both  had  beautiful  com 
plexions,  and  large,  soulful  eyes,  which  they 
knew  how  to  use.  Masses  of  brown  hair 
surmounted  their  fresh,  baby  faces,  and 
altogether  they  possessed  an  air  of  inno 
cence  and  youth  little  less  than  irresistible. 
Mrs.  Lebessi  was  known  in  her  family  cir 
cle  as  Euphrosyne,  and  her  sister  rejoiced 
in  the  good  old  name  of  Theodora.  The 
latter,  though  the  younger  of  the  two,  had 
already  advanced  into  that  period  of  life 
when,  if  ever,  a  woman  becomes  romantic. 
Talk  of  the  sentimentality  of  schoolgirls! 
One  lady  of  uncertain  age  can  dream  more 
dreams  than  a  dozen  schoolgirls! 

It  was  but  natural  that  Theodora  should 

be  smitten  with    Brother   Demetrius   from 

the  first  instant  that  she  gazed  upon   his 

tall    figure,    his    ruddy    cheeks,    his    large, 

156 


Father  Anthony 

liquid  eyes,  and  his  beautiful  beard.  She 
sat  upon  the  balcony  for  hours  every  day 
watching  to  see  him  cross  the  courtyard. 
Whenever  she  could  think  of  anything  to 
say,  she  stopped  him  and  questioned  him 
on  the  most  trivial  matters,  only  to  hear 
his  sweet,  low  voice.  Whenever  he  sat 
down  upon  a  bench  in  the  court  or  by  the 
spring,  Theodora  would  run  and  sit  beside 
him,  and  would  draw  him  into  conversa 
tion.  Often  she  talked  of  love.  Beginning 
with  its  divine  manifestation,  she  would 
lead  the  subject  around  skillfully  to  human 
affection.  At  such  times  she  would  hold 
her  head  down  and  look  up  at  the  poor 
monk  longingly  from  half-closed  eyes. 

All  this  could  not  go  on  and  escape 
Father  Anthony's  vigilance.  He  had  been 
greatly  concerned  from  the  first  over  the 
arrival  of  these  two  women,  and  they  had 
not  been  at  the  monastery  a  week  before 
he  was  convinced  that  they  were  genuine 
devils,  and  that  one  of  them  was  tempting 

'57 


The  Tempting  of 

Demetrius.  At  first  Anthony  said  to  him 
self:  "  God  has  sent  this  temptation  to  my 
friend  and  I  will  not  interfere  in  the  battle. 
I  will  pray  for  him  and  watch  them.  If 
his  strength  fails,  then  I  will  come  to  his 
assistance." 

From  that  time  forward  he  followed 
Theodora's  every  move  with  restless  eye. 
One  evening  she  looked  around  cautiously 
and  then  slipped  a  bit  of  paper  under  the 
door  of  Demetrius's  cell.  As  soon  as  she 
had  disappeared  through  the  door  of  the 
court,  Father  Anthony,  who  had  been 
watching  from  the  kitchen  window,  hurried 
across  the  inclosure,  secured  the  missive, 
and  went  to  his  own  cell  with  it.  By 
the  light  of  his  narrow  window  he  un 
folded  the  paper,  and  beheld  a  number 
of  verses  written  in  a  delicate  feminine 
hand.  At  the  head  of  the  effusion  was 
a  pen-and-ink  sketch  of  two  billing  doves 
seated  on  an  olive  branch;  at  the  end 
was  another  of  two  hearts,  pierced  spit- 

158 


Father  Anthony 

wise  by  an  arrow.  This  is  what  Father 
Anthony  read,  his  flesh  creeping  with  hor 
ror  and  indignation: 


LINES   TO    D- 


If  I  a  little  swallow  were, 

I  'd  fly  into  your  bed, 
And  build  among  the  pillows  there 

My  nest  above  your  head. 

There  would  I  twitter  all  the  day 

To  make  you  think  of  me; 
To  make  you  think  of  me,  my  sweet, 

Until  you  cease  to  be! 

THEODORA. 

P.  S.  —  I  must  see  you  once  more.  I  will  be 
at  the  same  place  again  to-night  at  the  same  hour. 
Oh,  my  darling!  do  not  disappoint  me. 

TH . 

When  Father  Anthony  had  sufficiently 
recovered  from  his  horror  to  be  able  to 
think  at  all,  his  first  impulse  was  to  go 
directly  to  the  hegoumenos,  show  him  the 
impious  letter,  and  denounce  its  author. 
Such  action,  he  had  no  doubt,  would  re- 


The  Tempting  of 

suit  in  the  immediate  expulsion  of  the 
strangers. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  actually  started 
in  search  of  the  hegoumenos,  when  the 
thought  occurred  to  him:  "Oh,  if  this 
were  I,  instead  of  Father  Demetrius! 
What  a  victory  I  would  gain!  Thus  would 
I  spurn  this  female  devil." 

Assuming  a  majestic  attitude,  he  threw 
out  his  hand  in  a  sublime  gesture  of  re 
pulsion  and  disdain. 

But  a  brave  warrior's  greatest  joy,  after 
being  in  a  conflict  himself,  is  to  witness 
a  battle  between  others. 

Slowly  dropping  his  outstretched  hand, 
he  soliloquized:  "  After  all,  I  have  no  right 
to  deprive  Father  Demetrius  of  this  victory. 
This  temptation  has  been  sent  him  for  his 
own  spiritual  advancement.  Why  should  I 
interfere  in  the  matter?" 

Influenced  by  this  last  thought,  he  re 
placed  the  billet-doux  where  he  had  found  it. 

That    afternoon    he    talked    much   with 

160 


Father  Anthony 


Father  Demetrius  on  spiritual  matters,  and 
even  spoke  of  the  terrible  dangers  to  the 
soul  incurred  in  the  society  of  women. 

"  I  believe/'  said  Father  Anthony,  sitting 
in  his  friend's  cell,  "  that  all  women  are 
an  invention  of  the  devil.  It  was  through 
woman  that  man  lost  the  first  paradise; 
it  is  through  her  that  he  most  frequently 
fails  of  the  paradise  above.  Perusal  of  the 
sacred  writers  and  of  the  lives  of  the  saints 
brings  this  great  truth  home  very  clearly. 
When  I  think  of  the  struggles  which  the 
blessed  fathers  have  endured  on  account 
of  woman,  my  very  blood  runs  cold  in 
my  veins.  It  is  clear  that  she  is  an  in 
vention  of  the  devil,  because  the  Creator 
could  have  provided  for  the  perpetuation 
of  the  race  without  her.  Is  he  not  all 
powerful?  So  firmly  fixed  is  this  idea  in 
my  mind,  that  I  shudder  at  the  sight  of 
a  woman,  comely  though  she  may  be.  A 
beautiful  woman  produces  in  me  the  same 
chill  and  aversion  that  one  feels  in  look- 

161 


The  Tempting  of 

ing  at  a  beautiful  snake  —  and  for  the 
same  reason,  for  they  are  both  associ 
ated  in  my  mind  with  the  devil  and  his 
works." 

To  this  homily  Demetrius  assented  with 
so  much  earnestness  that  Anthony  was 
more  than  satisfied. 

"  Nevertheless,  I  will  watch  them,"  he 
said.  '  The  sight  of  Demetrius's  victory 
will  give  me  wisdom  for  my  own  great 
struggles,  which  I  feel  are  not  long  to  be 
delayed." 


162 


Father  Anthony 


XVI. 

FATHER  ANTHONY,  despite  his  vigi 
lance,  did  not  see  the  fair  Theodora 
and  the  object  of  her  affection  steal  forth  to 
their  trysting  place.  Going  to  Demetrius's 
cell  at  the  hour  of  eleven,  he  found  the  door 
unlocked.  He  pushed  it  open  and  peeped  in. 
All  was  silence  within.  No  heavy  breath 
ing;  no  sonorous  snores  betrayed  the  sleep 
ing  priest.  On  the  table  beneath  an  eikon 
of  the  Virgin  stood  a  tumbler  of  olive  oil, 
on  whose  surface  burned  a  floating  bou- 
gette.  Its  feeble  light  shone  on  an  empty 
pillow.  Father  Anthony  hurried  down  the 
cloister,  and  stole  across  the  court,  where 
the  church  tower  and  the  trees  cast  ghostly 
shadows  by  the  moon's  half  light.  To  his 
surprise,  he  found  the  gate  of  the  court 
unlocked,  the  hegoumenos's  bunch  of  keys 
dangling  in  the  keyhole.  They  should  have 
163 


The  Tempting  of 

been  hanging  in  the  hegoumenos's  room, 
at  the  end  of  the  bookcase.  Once  out 
side,  Father  Anthony  stopped  to  think. 
Back  of  the  monastery  was  a  precipitous 
hill;  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine 
loomed  a  sheer  wall  of  rock  from  which 
flowed  the  miraculous  spring;  only  two 
ways  then  could  they  have  gone,  down 
by  the  wide  road  leading  to  the  sea,  or 
up  the  deep  ravine  among  the  oleander 
bushes.  The  road  lay  white  and  distinct 
in  the  moonlight,  winding  along  the  side 
of  a  precipice. 

"They  are  gone  up  the  ravine,"  said 
Father  Anthony,  "unless,  indeed,  she  has 
flown  off  with  him,  like  the  devil  with 
Doctor  Faust." 

So  he  stole  cautiously  along  the  steep 
trail  threading  the  bottom  of  the  ravine, 
listening  to  every  step.  His  zeal  was  soon 
rewarded.  The  sound  of  low  voices  in 
earnest  conversation  proved  that  his  sur 
mises  had  been  correct.  Cautiously  he 
164 


Father  Anthony 

approached  the  sound  until  he  came  to  a 
little  open  space  by  the  side  of  the  trail. 
The  high  oleander  bushes  inclosed  it  on 
three  sides,  and  at  the  back  was  a  steep 
rock.  In  the  shadow  of  this  stood  the 
priest  and  his  tempter.  Father  Anthony 
leaned  forward,  grasping  the  bushes  with 
nervous  fingers,  and  pushing  his  thin  face 
through  the  foliage.  His  eyes  gleamed  like 
the  eyes  of  a  wolf. 

"  Say  you  love  me  just  a  little,  Deme 
trius!  You  do  love  me,  don't  you? " 

"  I  do  love  you.  God  knows  I  love  you! 
Oh,  why  did  you  come  here,  with  your  sweet 
face  and  winning  ways,  to  make  me  wretched 
all  the  rest  of  my  life?  You  have  the  world 
before  you.  In  its  distractions  you  can  for 
get.  Perhaps  you  will  even  love  another. 
But  I  shall  stay  here  with  my  memory — 
like  a  prisoner  chained  to  a  corpse." 

"  Cruel  one,"  said  the  tempter,  "  to  think 
that  I  shall  ever  forget!  Your  persistence 
will  make  us  both  wretched  for  life.  Oh, 
165 


The  Tempting  of 

come  with  me  to  beautiful  France,  and  for 
get  your  vows.  We  will  be  so  happy  in 
each  other's  love,  and  will  spend  our  lives  in 
doing  good.  Surely,  the  Holy  Virgin  does 
not  intend  that  you  should  be  unhappy — 
you,  so  good,  so  noble,  so  beautiful— 

"  Hush,  hush,  Theodora!  If  you  love 
me  do  not  tempt  me  till  I  yield.  Your  love 
would  send  my  soul  to  hell!  " 

"Then  I'll  go  with  you,  for  I  should  be 
in  torment  anywhere  without  you." 

Demetrius  took  a  sudden  step  into  the 
moonlight,  as  though  to  save  himself  by 
fleeing,  but  the  tempter  sprang  forward  and 
caught  him  by  the  sleeve. 

"Oh,  Demetrius!  Oh,  my  chick!  my 
light,  my  life!  do  not  leave  me  here  to  die 
alone! " 

The  priest  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then 
with  a  groan,  caught  the  swaying  figure  in 
his  arms.  The  head  fell  back  upon  his 
shoulder,  with  the  eyes  closed,  and  the  red 
lips  partly  open. 

166 


Father  Anthony 


Demetrius  pressed  kiss  after  kiss  upon 
the  upturned  mouth. 

Then  Father  Anthony  sprang  from  the 
oleander  bushes  and  fell  upon  his  knees. 
He  turned  his  thin  face  to  heaven  in  the 
moonlight,  and  working  his  clasped  hands 
to  and  fro  above  his  head,  began  to  pray 
loudly,  frantically.  His  words  poured  forth 
in  a  torrent  of  fanatic  eloquence.  He  called 
upon  the  mother  of  God,  and  the  saints,  to 
assist  Father  Demetrius  in  this  his  hour  of 
need,  to  give  him  strength  yet  to  overcome 
this  terrible  temptation.  He  prayed  that 
the  devil  might  be  given  his  own  hideous 
shape  before  their  very  eyes,  that  Father 
Demetrius  might  see  him  as  he  was,  and  be 
saved.  While  he  prayed,  the  poor  lovers 
vanished  into  the  bushes  and  hastened  back 
to  the  monastery. 

"  Go  to  your  cell,  quick!  and  go  to  bed," 
said  the  sharp-witted  Theodora.  Deme 
trius  obeyed,  and  Theodora,  locking  the  gate 

of  the  court  on  the  inside,  tiptoed  into  the 

167 


The  Tempting  of 

cell  of  the  hegoumenos  with  the  bunch  of 
keys,  which  she  hung  on  the  accustomed  nail 
at  the  end  of  the  bookcase.  The  dear  old 
man  was  sleeping  peacefully,  as  one  with  so 
fair  a  conscience  deserves.  A  ray  of  moon 
light  fell  lovingly  athwart  the  bearded  face 
and  silver  head.  Theodora  crossed  herself 
as  one  who  looks  upon  great  holiness  or 
death  itself.  Then  she  went  to  her  bed. 

Soon  after,  a  loud  clattering  of  the  church 
bell  awoke  the  monks  to  midnight  prayers. 
At  the  same  moment  Father  Anthony  began 
to  pound  violently  upon  the  door  without, 
and  to  shout  for  admittance. 

"Let  me  in,"  he  cried,  "quick!  quick! 
The  devil  has  made  off  with  Father  Deme 
trius.  Help!  help!" 

In  much  amazement  several  of  the  broth 
ers  ran  to  the  spot,  while  the  hegoumenos, 
soon  after  appearing,  opened  the  door. 
Yanni  held  a  lantern  on  high,  whose  uncer 
tain  light  gave  an  unearthly  grotesqueness 
to  the  strange  group. 

1 68 


Father  Anthony 


"Father  Demetrius  is  lost!"  shouted 
Anthony;  "  I  saw  him  in  the  wood  being 
tempted  by  the  devil  in  woman's  form,  and 
while  I  prayed  for  his  deliverance  they 
vanished  together.  The  evil  one  has  flown 
off  with  him.  Down,  down  on  your  knees 
altogether,  brethren,  and  pray  for  the 
rescue  of  his  soul!  " 

"Why!"  exclaimed  Father  Joseph, 
"here's  Demetrius  himself." 

And  sure  enough,  the  handsome  monk 
at  that  instant  appeared,  dressed  for  the 
midnight  service.  All  eyes  were  turned 
upon  him  curiously  as  he  inquired  the  cause 
of  the  disturbance. 

"  Glory  to  God,  he  has  escaped ! " 
shouted  Anthony;  "when  the  devil  heard 
my  prayers  he  fled." 

All  were  anxious  for  a  detailed  explana 
tion  from  Father  Anthony,  and  Demetrius 
exhibited  as  much  curiosity  as  any  of  his 
confreres. 

"  After  the  service,  my  children,  after 
169 


The  Tempting  of 

the  service,  commanded  the  hegoumenos; 
"  we  must  not  let  any  device  of  the  evil 
one  cause  us  to  neglect  our  duties  to  God." 

Accordingly,  after  the  service,  Father 
Anthony  related  in  full  all  that  he  had  seen 
of  the  tempting  of  Demetrius.  He  laid 
great  stress  on  his  own  watchfulness,  and 
closed  by  earnestly  recommending  severer 
abstinence  from  food  and  sleep  to  the  other 
monks. 

"  As  for  these  two  women  now  in  the 
building,"  he  added,  "I  do  not  know 
whether  they  be  actually  devils,  or  whether 
the  devil  appeared  to  Demetrius  in  the 
form  of  one  of  them.  I  do  know  that  any 
woman  is,  in  herself,  a  menace  to  holiness, 
and  should  be  avoided  as  if  she  were  the 
very  devil.  If  I  had  my  way  about  it,  I 
would  not  allow  Satan's  chief  influence  for 
evil  to  be  introduced  into  an  abode  of  holy 
men." 

Having  delivered  himself  of  these  right 
eous  sentiments,  he  retired  to  his  cell. 

170 


Father  Anthony 


The  other  monks,  one  and  all,  took 
sides  against  Father  Anthony. 

"  Demetrius  was  quietly  asleep  in  his  cell 
where  he  ought  to  have  been;  Anthony  was 
on  the  outside  with  the  door  locked  against 
him.  Who  knows  where  he  had  been 
prowling?  " 

Each  one  of  them,  in  turn,  accused 
Anthony  of  the  fault  which  his  own  weak 
ness  suggested. 

"He  was  off  to  a  lamb  roast  somewhere, 
and  invented  this  story  when  he  found  he 
couldn't  get  in  without  discovery,"  said 
Father  Spiro. 

"Some  sailors  have  treated  him  to 
smuggled  wine,"  suggested  Father  Joseph, 
smacking  his  lips,  "and  it  turned  his  head. 
Once  a  Greek  sea  captain  gave  me  a  bottle 
of  Spanish  wine.  That  was  many  years 
ago,  and  I  have  n't  forgotten  the  taste  to 
this  day." 

"  Farmer  Christodoulos  has  a  very  pretty 

daughter,"  sneered  the  old  monk  with  the 

171 


The  Tempting  of 

impure  mind;  "he  should  be  sure  she  is  in 
her  room  o'  nights." 

The  hegoumenos  reproved  sternly  all 
these  suggestions,  and  placed  no  faith  in 
any  of  them.  He  was,  nevertheless,  greatly 
puzzled.  For  the  family  from  Marseilles, 
he  had  the  highest  respect,  and  could  not, 
in  his  mind,  connect  either  of  the  ladies 
with  a  scandal.  It  was  true,  also,  that 
Demetrius  had  been  in  his  cell;  the  door  of 
the  court  had  been  locked,  and  the  keys 
found  safely  hanging  in  their  accustomed 
place. 

The  good  superior  at  length  decided 
that  Father  Anthony  was  suffering  from 
hallucination  ;  that  he  had  fasted  and 
watched  until  his  brain  had  become 
affected.  He,  therefore,  summoned  the 
young  monk  before  him,  and  advised  him 
to  eat  more  and  sleep  more  for  awhile,  and 
to  cast  upon  God  some  of  the  responsibility 
which  he  felt  for  the  welfare  of  his 

brothers. 

172 


Father  Anthony 


"Be  not  over-righteous,"  he  quoted; 
"for  why  shouldst  thou  destroy  thyself?" 

Father  Anthony  took  the  advice  in  no 
kindly  spirit.  He  had  expected  the  highest 
commendation  for  his  zeal.  Moreover, 
when  he  found  his  story  was  not  believed, 
he  grew  indignant,  and  thenceforth  treated 
his  brethren  with  haughty  disdain. 

His  conduct  at  length  became  so  unen 
durable  that  the  good  hegoumenos  hailed, 
with  joy,  Anthony's  proposal  to  leave  the 
monastery,  and  to  take  up  his  abode  in  the 
wilderness  as  a  hermit. 

"There  at  least,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  not 
see  men  in  holy  garb  drinking  wine  and 
sucking  goats'  eyes,  neither  shall  I  have  the 
society  of  women  forced  upon  me." 

Thus  ended  Father  Anthony's  monastery 
life,  and  every  inmate  of  the  old  walls 
heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  when  his  tall 
form  disappeared  forever  around  the  bend 
in  the  long  road  that  skirts  the  sea. 
In  his  right  hand,  he  carried  his  earthly 
173 


The  Tempting  of 

effects  tied  up  in  a  large  colored  hand 
kerchief,  and  his  left  arm  hugged  to  his 
side  a  huge  book  bound  in  pigskin.  It 
was  that  volume  of  "  The  Saints,"  which 
contained  the  "  Life  and  Victories  of 
Anthony  the  Good,"  founder  of  the  hermit 
system. 


174 


Father  Anthony 


XVII. 

PARASKEVE  KOKKINOU  was  a  very 
beautiful  girl  of  the  buxom  type.  Her 
face  was  oval,  her  lips  were  full  and  red, 
her  eyes  were  large  and  wide  apart.  They 
would  have  been  black  but  for  a  fire  that 
glowed  behind  them  like  the  sun  behind  a 
cloud. 

Sometimes  this  fire  smoldered,  and  then 
the  eyes  were  a  dark  violet  in  color.  Some 
times  a  few  rays  struggled  through,  and 
then  they  took  on  a  lighter  tint.  If  the  fire 
blazed  out  in  full  force,  as  it  often  did,  you 
could  not  tell  what  color  the  eyes  were,  but 
imagined  yourself  looking  at  the  deep  sky 
of  Greece,  saturated  with  morning  sun. 

When  you  talked  with  Paraskeve,  a 
speaking  intelligence  came  and  went  in  her 
eyes,  for  all  the  world  as  though  a  soul 
peeped  out  of  window  at  you  every  few 


The  Tempting  of 

moments,  and  then  went  away  again.  She 
had  wavy  brown  hair,  with  fluffy  locks  at 
her  ears,  and  cunning  short  curls  at  the 
nape  of  her  neck. 

Paraskeve's  figure  was  magnificent. 
Though  but  eighteen  years  of  age,  she  was 
a  big  woman,  and  voluptuously  developed. 
Her  deep  chest  and  swelling  bosom  made 
you  think  that  such  as  she  should  be  a 
hero's  mother.  She  held  her  head  erect 
like  a  queen,  and  looked  you  fearlessly  in 
the  face.  Her  back  curved  inward  grace 
fully  like  a  plump  colt's,  and  her  waist  and 
hips  were  as  God  made  them.  Hands  and 
feet  shapely  and  not  too  small;  ears  like 
pink  sea-shells;  complexion  a  clear  bru 
nette — such  was  Paraskeve. 

Any  man  on  the  right  side  of  seventy 
who  can  look  on  such  a  picture  and  not  feel 
his  heart  beat  faster  is  guilty  of  blasphemy. 
Indifference  in  such  a  case  is  contempt  of 
the  Creator's  skill.  Paraskeve  being  a 

Greek  peasant  girl,  wore  a  costume  that 
176 


Father  Anthony 


was  becoming  to  a  bewitching  degree.  Her 
dress  consisted  of  two  principal  parts:  first 
a  white  cotton  chemise,  sleeveless,  reach 
ing  to  her  feet;  and  second,  a  wide-sleeved 
woolen  jacket  that  came  down  to  the  knees. 
Both  were  richly  embroidered  in  red  and 
black  after  the  Greek  style.  About  her  head 
she  usually  wore  a  silk  scarf,  and  on  her 
feet  Turkish  half-slippers.  As  these  latter 
only  covered  her  toes,  the  greater  part  of 
her  shapely  feet,  encased  in  snowy  stock 
ings  knitted  by  her  own  hands,  were  visible 
when  she  walked. 

On  fete  days,  Paraskeve  wore  a  fillet  of 
Turkish  gold  coins  about  her  forehead,  and 
many  strings  of  the  same  across  her  chest, 
for  she  was  the  richest  girl  in  all  the  region 
around,  and  it  is  the  custom  for  Greek 
country  maidens  to  wear  a  portion  of  their 
doweries  where  it  can  be  seen. 

Nor  did  these  Turkish  coins  consti 
tute  all  of  her  wealth.  Her  father  and 

mother  were  both  dead,  and  the  house  in 

177 


The  Tempting  of 

which  she  lived  with  an  aged  aunt  was  her 
own,  as  was  also  the  lemon  orchard  of 
three  acres  in  which  it  stood.  Hers,  also, 
were  the  proceeds  of  a  hundred  olive  trees 
on  the  hillslope  higher  up,  and  a  fine  flock 
of  goats  owned  her  as  their  mistress. 
Every  time  a  little,  weak-legged  kid  was 
born  and  danced  awkwardly  about  the  hill 
side,  Paraskeve  became  that  much  richer. 

To  any  one  acquainted  with  Greek  coun 
try  life,  it  may  seem  strange  that  so  attrac 
tive  and  desirable  a  maiden  should  have 
been  allowed  to  reach  her  eighteenth  year 
unmarried.  It  is  but  paying  just  tribute  to 
the  good  sense  of  the  young  men  of  the 
neighborhood  to  say  that  she  had  been  be 
set  by  offers  of  matrimony  since  her  four 
teenth  year. 

Many  times  had  the  matchmakers  come 
to  Aunt  Aspasia  with  arguments  in  favor 
of  this  or  that  young  man;  and  really,  the 
amiable  old  lady  was  beginning  to  be  much 

concerned. 

178 


Father  Anthony 


"Are  you  going  to  turn  nun,  my  chick?  " 
she  would  say.  "  Fie  upon  you!  so  young, 
so  beautiful,  and  so  rich!  Why,  you  could 
have  your  pick  of  the  whole  country.  If 
your  father  were  living,  he  would  have 
married  you  off  three  years  ago." 

And    at    other  times  she  would    plead: 

'Take   some   nice    young    man,  my    eyes, 

and    let    us    have    little    children    running 

in  and  out  of  the  door.     This  is  too  sad  a 

life — two  women  living  here  alone." 

But  Paraskeve  was  a  spoiled  child.  To 
an  extremely  romantic  temperament  she 
added  a  will  of  her  own  which  found  little 
opposition  in  her  independent  position. 

"All  these  men  about  here  are  so  ordi 
nary,"  she  would  answer.  "  When  I  marry 
it  must  be  somebody  different  from  the 
youths  we  see  every  day.  With  my  dowry, 
I  can  get  a  common  farmer's  lad  when  I 
am  forty." 

This  beautiful  girl  lived  in  a  very  beau- 

ful  and   romantic  spot.     Any  one  who  has 
179 


The  Tempting  of 

coasted  along  the  shores  of  the  Pelopo- 
nesus,  or  sailed  among  the  Greek  islands, 
will  remember  many  such  locations.  You 
pass  miles  of  precipitous  shore,  bluish 
gray  in  color,  where  grows  not  a  tree- 
scarcely  even  a  shrub.  Landward  there  is 
nothing  for  the  eyes  to  rest  upon  save  the 
long  wall  of  rock,  rent  here  and  there  by 
deep  fissures,  with  the  sea  whitely  foaming 
at  its  feet.  You  begin  to  grow  lonely  as 
you  look,  to  feel  that  you  have  drifted  into 
a  wild  world  uninhabited  by  other  men, 
when,  all  'at  once,  far  down  the  rim  of 
foam,  a  green  spot  greets  the  eye.  As  you 
sail  nearer,  a  group  of  tall  cypress  trees 
becomes  distinguishable,  standing  like  sen 
tinels  at  the  edge  of  a  pleasant  valley. 
Here  the  gray  wall  has  divided,  and  throw 
ing  out  its  arms,  lovingly  embraces  a  quiet 
silver  bay,  with  a  beach  shaped  like  the 
crescent  moon.  A  little  stream  comes 
down  from  the  mountain,  keeping  alive  the 
gardens,  the  fruit  orchards,  and  the  rose- 

180 


Father  Anthony 


bushes  that  cover  the  white  cottages.  Ere 
you  pass  this  idyllic  nook,  you  catch  a 
glimpse  of  feathery  silver  higher  up.  The 
olive  groves  are  there,  and  often  a  white 
village  nestles  among  them. 

In  such  a  nook  of  the  world  lived  Paras- 
keve.  Her  house  stood  alone  on  the  hill 
side,  and  was  shaded  by  a  great  oak  tree. 
It  was  a  small  building  of  two  stories,  and 
contained  but  three  rooms.  Rose-vines 
clambered  over  one  end  of  it,  and  a  bal 
cony  from  the  upper  story  looked  over  the 
open  sea. 

Was  she  not  insupportably  lonely  in  such 
an  out-of-the-way  place?  The  question 
naturally  suggests  itself,  but  we  must  remem 
ber  that  she  knew  of  no  other  existence. 
She  could  neither  read  nor  write  her  name, 
and  the  stories  which  she  occasionally  heard 
of  the  distant  world  and  its  great  cities, 
sounded  to  her  much  as  speculations  con 
cerning  Mars  sound  to  more  enlightened 
intellects.  It  is  deplorable  that  Greece  has 

181 


The  Tempting  of 

taken  so  little  care  for  the  instruction  of  its 
girls,  and  yet,  in  Paraskeve's  case,  inability 
to  read  was  not  an  unmixed  evil.  She  did 
not  sit  for  hours  every  day,  poring  over 
trashy  novels,  thus  filling  her  mind  with 
false  ideas  of  life,  even,  perhaps,  with  im 
purity.  On  the  contrary,  she  busied  herself, 
winter  and  summer,  with  household  cares, 
and  she  was  not  ashamed  to  work  out  of 
doors,  when  necessary,  helping  the  one  old 
man  whom  she  and  her  aunt  kept  to  work 
about  the  place.  There  was  the  garden  to  be 
planted  and  looked  after;  there  were  sheep 
and  goats  to  be  cared  for;  the  olives  and 
grapes  must  be  gathered,  the  oil  and  wine 
made.  In  addition  to  all  this,  the  two 
women  prepared  their  little  stock  of  wool 
for  the  loom,  carding,  spinning,  and  dyeing 
it  themselves.  Every  stitch  of  clothing  that 
was  worn  by  the  small  family  was  made  at 
home. 

With  all  these  claims  upon  her  time,  it  is 

hard  to  see  how  Paraskeve  found  time  for 
182 


Father  Anthony 

any  further  employment.  It  is  a  fact,  how 
ever,  that  she  possessed  as  complete  a  dowry 
wardrobe  as  any  girl  in  the  country,  all  made 
by  her  own  fair  hands.  This  she  kept,  for 
the  most  part,  in  a  huge  wooden  trunk, 
richly  ornamented  with  mosaic  work — an 
heirloom  from  Turkish  times.  Let  us  lift 
the  lid  and  peep  in.  A  faint  odor  of  per 
fume  escapes  and  greets  our  nostrils,  the 
aroma  of  some  aromatic  plant  scattered 
among  the  clothing.  The  things  that  we 
shall  admire  most  among  the  contents  are 
the  beautiful  embroideries.  There  are  a 
number  of  three-cornered  handkerchiefs  of 
colored  silk,  delicately  worked,  and  other 
similar  ones,  of  less  expensive  material. 
These  are  for  headwear  on  fete  days,  and 
take  the  place  of  bonnets.  The  lucky  swain 
who  marries  a  girl  like  Paraskeve  will  have 
no  Easter  hats  to  buy. 

There  are  several  sheets  of  home-made 
linen,    with    pillow-cases    to    match.      On 

each  of  these  has  been  worked   a  wreath 
183 


The  Tempting  of 

of  flowers,  with  the  initials  //.  K.  in  the 
center. 

Underwear,  stockings,  embroidered 
aprons — why  enumerate  further?  Every 
Greek  country  girl  worth  having  makes 
these  things  herself,  and  brings  them  to 
her  husband. 

Nor  had  Paraskeve  stopped  here,  for  she 
had  found  time  to  weave  half  a  dozen  rugs 
of  pure  wool,  and  as  many  bed  blankets,  all 
in  bright,  variegated  colors. 

Thus  it  is  easy  to  understand  that  this 
industrious  girl  must  have  spent  much  of 
her  time  at  the  little  hand-loom  which  was 
set  up  in  one  of  the  downstairs  rooms. 

Thus  was  she  engaged  one  quiet  after 
noon  in  July.  Red  roses  bent  down  from 
the  clambering  vines,  and  peeped  in  at  her. 
The  faint  breeze  was  sweet  with  breath 
from  their  parted  lips.  A  thousand  locusts 
chirped  monotonously  in  the  cool  oak  trees. 
The  sea  was  visible  from  the  open  door, 

shimmering  between  the  cypress  trees. 

184 


Father  Anthony 


Paraskeve  had  laid  aside  her  embroid 
ered  jacket,  and  her  arms  were  bare  to  the 
shoulders.  They  were  pink  and  white  and 
very  plump,  and  as  she  threw  the  shuttle 
back  and  forth,  dimples  played  "  hide  and 
seek"  in  her  rounded  elbows.  Her  long, 
glossy  hair  hung  down  her  back  in  two 
braids,  tied  at  the  ends  with  bits  of  colored 
ribbon.  She  sang,  while  she  worked,  a 
plaintive  love  song,  one  of  those  wild, 
monotonous  tunes  one  so  often  hears  in 
the  Greek  islands. 

So  occupied  was  she  that  she  did  not 
hear  a  quick,  nervous  footfall  outside  the 
door,  nor  did  she  look  up  until  the  shadow 
of  a  man  fell  athwart  the  floor  in  front  of 
her.  Then  Paraskeve  raised  her  eyes,  and 
so  astonished  was  she  that  she  kept  her 
plump,  white  arms  outstretched  over  the 
loom. 

A  young  man  stood  before  her,  dressed 
in  the  garb  of  a  monk.  His  scantily  bearded 

face  was  thin   and  pale,  but  the  features 

185 


The  Tempting  of 

were  regular.  His  eyes  were  large  and  ex 
pressive,  and  his  temples  were  festooned 
with  short,  brown  curls  that  had  escaped 
from  beneath  his  hat. 

Paraskeve's  first  impulse  was  to  scream, 
but  the  sight  of  the  holy  garb  reassured  her, 
so  she  said:  "  Hail,  father,  how  can  I  serve 
you?" 

For  answer,  the  monk  stared  so  long 
that  the  situation  became  embarrassing. 
Then  he  muttered:  "  Holy  St.  Anthony 
defend  me!"  crossed  himself  devoutly,  and 
walked  away.  Paraskeve  noticed  that  he 
carried  a  bundle  in  his  right  hand,  and  a 
huge  leather-bound  book  under  his  left 
arm. 

This  extraordinary  incident  excited  the 
girl's  curiosity  to  an  overpowering  degree. 
Springing  to  her  feet,  she  ran  to  the  door 
leading  into  the  next  room,  crying:  "  Aunt 
Aspasia!  Aunt  Aspasia!  Do  get  up  and 
come  here,  quick!  " 

The  elder  woman,  yielding  to  the  influ- 
186 


Father  Anthony 

ences  of  the  day,  had  lain  down  for  a  long 
nap.  She  immediately  appeared,  rubbing 
her  eyes  and  grumbling:  'What's  the 
matter,  child  ?  Holy  Mother!  one  would 
think  the  house  was  surrounded  by  bri 
gands,  or  that  you  had  seen  St.  Spiridori s 
ghost" 

"Come  to  the  window,  quick!  Such  a 
peculiar  man!  " 

Aspasia  did  as  she  was  bidden,  but 
Father  Anthony,  for  the  strange  visitor 
was  none  other,  had  disappeared  among 
the  trees. 

"  And  what  was  there  so  peculiar  about 
this  man?"  persisted  the  aunt,  for  being 
suddenly  aroused  from  sleep  had  made  her 
peevish. 

"  Oh,  he  was  a  monk,  but  such  a  monk! 
Tall,  slender,  and  young,  with  big,  sad  eyes, 
and  short,  brown  curls.  He  looked  at  me 
in  such  a  funny  way,  and  then  crossed  him 
self  and  hurried  off  as  though  I  were  a 

ghost." 

187 


The  Tempting  of 

"  Only  a  monk,  eh?"  growled  Aspasia; 
"  it's  encouraging,  though,  to  have  you  take 
an  interest  in  any  kind  of  a  man,  even  in 
one  who  wears  a  cassock." 


188 


Father  Anthony 


XVIII. 

AFTER  leaving  the  monastery,  Father 
Anthony  had  crossed  over  to  the 
mainland,  and  gone  southward  along  the 
Argolic  coast.  His  idea  was  to  find  some 
lonely  habitation,  deserted  hut,  habitable 
cavern,  or,  preferably,  "  little  church  of  the 
wilderness,"  where  he  might  live  in  heroic 
asceticism. 

The  loaf  of  bread  which  he  had  taken 
with  him  had  sufficed  for  three  days,  and 
he  had  slept  under  trees.  On  the  fourth 
day,  he  had  earned  two  drachmas  working 
in  a  harvest  field,  and  the  farmer  had  been 
glad  of  an  extra  pair  of  hands,  for  labor 
is  scarce  in  Greece.  With  this  money  he 
had  bought  two  brown  loaves,  which  he  hid 
away  in  his  cassock,  besides  some  olives, 
and  a  little  string  of  spicy  garlic  to  keep 

him  healthy.     He  had,  moreover,  been  told 

189 


The  Tempting  of 

of  a  tiny  church  which  bade  fair  to  serve 
his  purpose  admirably.  It  was  situated  on  a 
rocky  islet  that  lay  off  the  extremity  of  one 
of  the  long  arms  encircling  Paraskeve's  bay. 

Thither  was  Father  Anthony  bound 
when,  stopping  to  ask  for  a  glass  of  water, 
he  first  saw  Paraskeve  looking  up  at  him 
with  her  big,  soft  eyes,  her  bare  arms  flash 
ing  over  the  loom  in  the  sunlight.  His 
opinion  of  women  we  already  know.  That 
opinion,  confirmed  by  Father  Demetrius's 
case,  and  strengthened  by  long  brooding, 
had  grown  almost  into  a  mania.  As  the 
devil  appeared  to  St.  Anthony  in  the  form 
of  a  beautiful  maiden,  Father  Anthony 
believed  every  attractive  woman  to  be  a 
physical  manifestation  of  the  evil  one. 

"Why  is  a  woman  beautiful?"  he  would 
say  to  himself.  "To  distract  holy  men,  and 
to  lead  away  their  thoughts  from  pious 
contemplation  ;  for  no  other  reason,  for 
without  beauty,  she  serves  all  good  and 

useful  purposes." 

190 


Father  Anthony 


With  these  reflections,  and  many  more 
in  the  same  vein,  did  he  strengthen  his 
mind  as  he  continued  on  his  way  toward 
the  little  church.  Much  to  his  disgust, 
however,  he  found  his  soliloquy  broken  into 
from  time  to  time  by  involuntary  paren 
thetical  exclamations.  Do  the  best  he 
would  to  fix  his  attention  on  the  subject  in 
hand,  viz.,  the  dangerous  influence  excited 
by  beautiful  women  upon  the  minds  of 
holy  men,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming 
every  now  and  then,  "  What  white  arms!  " 
"What  white  arms!"  He  had,  of  course, 
taken  in  the  whole  picture  of  Paraskeve  as 
she  sat  there  at  the  loom;  but  it  was  the 
plump,  white  arms  that  kept  flashing  before 
his  eyes,  and  would  not  be  argued  away. 
Perhaps,  if  he  had  first  seen  the  maiden 
with  her  jacket  on,  she  would  not  have 
caught  his  eye.  On  such  small  points  do 
our  destinies  turn. 

About  a  week   after  his  advent  in  the 

neighborhood,  Paraskeve  heard  of  the  young 
191 


The  Tempting  of 

priest  again.  In  fact,  the  whole  country 
side  by  that  time,  had  begun  to  talk  of 
him. 

"Oh,  aunty!"  cried  Paraskeve  one  day, 
running  into  the  house  in  great  excitement. 
"What  do  you  think?  I  just  saw  Marigo 
Kallispera  on  a  donkey.  She  and  her  two 
little  brothers  have  been  up  to  Drytown 
(Sr^/ofc)  to  buy  groceries. 

"Well,  well,  what  was  there  remarkable 
about  that?" 

"  Nothing,  only  the  priest — " 

"What  priest?" 

"Why,  the  handsome  young  priest,  who 
stopped  here  a  few  days  ago,  and  ran  off 
when  he  saw  me,  as  though  I  had  been  a 
ghost.  Why,  he  's  the  holiest  man  that  ever 
came  into  these  parts.  He  's  living  in  the 
little  church  on  the  island,  all  alone.  He 
worked  two  days  for  Marigo's  father,  help 
ing  in  the  vineyard.  He  looked  so  sad  and 
so  handsome  that  Marigo  went  up  and  spoke 

to  him — feeling  sorry  for  him,  you  know. 
192 


Father  Anthony 

But  he  went  over  to  another  end  of  the  field 
without  saying  a  word.  The  next  day,  Mr. 
Kallispera  got  Mrs.  Stefanos  and  her  daugh 
ter  to  help,  and  the  priest  left.  He  told 
Mr.  Kallispera  that  he  was  a  holy  man,  and 
could  not  remain  where  there  were  so  many 
women  around.  Mr.  Kallispera  paid  him 
three  drachmas.  He  said  he  ate  nothing 
but  bread  and  water,  and  that  he  could  live 
for  two  weeks  on  three  drachmas." 

Aunt  Aspasia  crossed  herself  reverently. 

"  He  is  indeed  a  holy  man,"  said  she. 
"  May  he  bring  much  good  fortune  to  the 
neighborhood." 

"Amen!"  responded  Paraskeve,  fer 
vently.  "  And  he  's  so  handsome,  too. 
Marigo  says  that  all  the  girls  are  just  crazy 
about  him." 

"Silence,  child!"  cried  Aunt  Aspasia,  in 
horror.  "  How  dare  you  speak  thus  about 
a  man  of  God? " 

The  discussion  ceased  here  for  the 
time  being,  but  neither  of  the  women 

193 


The  Tempting  of 

could  dismiss  Father  Anthony  from  her 
mind. 

That  very  evening,  Aunt  Aspasia,  as 
soon  as  she  could  slip  off  unobserved,  walked 
out  to  the  little  point,  opposite  the  barren 
rock  on  which  stood  the  church.  For  some 
time  she  stood  concealed  behind  a  crag, 
watching,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand. 
The  sun  was  setting  at  the  other  side  of  the 
sea,  and  the  long  pathway  of  glory  that  lay 
on  the  waves  blinded  her.  She  saw  not  the 
sunset.  She  was  annoyed  that  the  light  got 
into  her  eyes,  and  prevented  her  seeing  the 
man  who  could  live  on  bread  and  water. 

Soon  the  great  disk  slid  between  the  sea's 
edge  and  the  sky,  and  the  tiny  church 
stood  out  distinct  and  gray  among  the  sad 
waters  of  the  sudden  twilight. 

Then  Aunt  Aspasia  caught  her  breath  in 
wonder  and  admiration,  for  while  she  looked 
the  young  monk  emerged  from  the  door, 
carrying  an  earthen  water  jar  in  his  hand. 

How  plainly  she  could  see  him  across  the 

194 


Father  Anthony 


narrow  strait!  He  stood  alone  in  that  light 
which  often  comes  at  sea  just  after  sunset, 
and  which  is  like  the  light  of  another  world, 
so  soft  it  is, so  mystical,  so  diaphanous.  She 
could  see  every  line  of  his  figure  and  fea 
tures  clearly,  yet  softly,  outlined,  as  in  a 
perfect  photograph. 

He  had  no  hat  on,  and  his  wavy,  brown 
hair,  worn  long,  as  is  the  custom  among  the 
Greek  priests,  floated  back  on  the  wind  and 
left  his  high  forehead  bare.  His  features 
were  thin,  and  as  he  turned  his  face  side- 
wise  toward  her,  they  stood  out  against  the 
sky  like  the  profile  of  some  young  saint 
painted  on  a  church  screen. 

With  slow  and  deliberate  steps  did  Father 
Anthony  descend  to  the  edge  of  the  rock, 
as  though  pondering  the  destinies  of  man 
kind.  There  was  moored  a  little  skiff,  the 
use  of  which  he  had  obtained  from  Mr. 
Kallispera.  Into  this  he  stepped  and  shoved 
off.  Aunt  Aspasia  gave  vent  to  a  smoth 
ered  scream,  for  as  the  unstable  waves  rose 
195 


The  Tempting  of 

between  her  eye  and  the  boat's  level,  Father 
Anthony  seemed  to  be  sitting  on  the  sur 
face  of  the  water,  paddling  himself  to  land. 

Satisfied  at  length  that  this  was  an  opti 
cal  delusion,  she  crossed  herself  devoutly 
and  hurried  home,  unseen. 

Father  Anthony  had  come  to  land  for 
water,  and  the  next  night  when  he  tied  his 
skiff  to  a  rock,  and  started  up  the  path 
toward  the  brook,  Aunt  Aspasia  slipped 
from  behind  her  crag,  tiptoed  to  the  water's 
edge,  and  placed  in  the  boat  a  loaf  of  bread, 
half  a  dozen  boiled  eggs,  a  tumbler  of  or 
ange  preserves,  and  some  beautiful  grapes. 

Then  she  stole  back,  muttering:  "  He 
must  not  be  worried  with  worldly  cares. 
He  must  have  all  his  time  for  prayer  and 
meditation.  Who  knows?  Perhaps  he  will 
become  so  holy  that  he  will  be  able  to  per 
form  miracles." 

When  Father  Anthony  returned  to  the 
boat,  he  found  the  bread,  the  eggs,  and  the 

delicacies,  and   much   he  wondered   as  he 

196 


Father  Anthony 

held  them  in  his  hands  and  looked  them 
over.  His  eyes  also  sparkled,  and  he 
smacked  his  lips,  for  he  was  very  hungry. 

Suddenly  his  manner  changed,  and  he 
cried  in  a  loud,  stern  voice:  "Get  thee  be 
hind  me,  Satan!  Dost  thou  think  to  tempt 
me  with  offerings  to  my  belly?  Me,  Father 
Anthony,  who  have  neither  been  terrified 
by  wild  animals  nor  yielded  to  the  seduc 
tions  of  fair  women?  Thus,  thus,  do  I  scorn 
thee!" 

Saying  which,  he  hurled  Aunt  Aspasia's 
tumbler  of  delicious  preserved  oranges 
against  the  face  of  the  cliff,  following  it  up 
with  the  eggs  and  the  grapes.  He  even 
picked  up  the  bread,  but  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  put  it  back  in  the  boat. 

"  St.  Anthony,"  he  said,  "lived  on  bread 
and  water.  By  accepting  this  loaf,  I  shall 
have  more  time  for  prayer.  Thus  shall  I 
beat  the  devil  with  his  own  weapons!  " 

Now,  nothing  is  ever  done  by  anybody  in 

Greece  that  is  not  seen  or  heard  by  some- 
197 


The  Tempting  of 

body  else.  So  it  chanced  that  two  small 
boys  had  followed  Father  Anthony  to  the 
sea-shore,  and  were  watching  him  from 
behind  a  rock  with  bulging  eyes  and  bated 
breath. 

They  saw,  heard,  and  told  all.  Thus 
was  the  young  priest's  fame  spread  in  all 
the  region  thereabouts,  and  no  less  a  man 
than  the  demarch  of  Drytown  came  down 
to  look  at  the  marks  made  on  the  face  of 
the  cliff  by  Aunt  Aspasia's  boiled  eggs  and 
orange  preserves.  And  seeing,  he  crossed 
himself,  and  cried:  "This  is,  indeed,  a  holy 
man!" 


198 


Father  Anthony 


XIX. 

'  I  ^HE  church  in  which  Father  Anthony 
1  had  taken  up  his  abode  was  dedicated 
to  the  "  Holy  Virgin,  the  Averter  of  Grass 
hoppers."  In  former  years  the  peaceful 
region  thereabout  had  been  greatly  devas 
tated  by  grasshoppers.  These  pests  had 
come  frequently  in  a  cloud,  stripping  the 
ground  of  the  green  barley  and  vegetables, 
and  denuding  the  trees  and  vines  of  their 
leaves. 

The  simple  country  folk  were  almost 
reduced  to  despair,  when,  one  day,  two 
boys,  who  had  swum  over  to  the  island, 
found  there  an  old,  weather-worn  picture  of 
the  Virgin.  They  brought  it  to  their  home, 
and  their  father,  for  the  boys  were  brothers, 
immediately  mounted  his  donkey  and  rode 
off  to  the  pious  village  of  Drytown.  The 

picture   was   deposited    in    the    demarch's 
199 


The  Tempting  of 

office,  and  many  came  to  see  it.  Finally, 
an  old  woman,  much  respected  for  her 
piety,  and  not  a  little  feared  for  her  knowl 
edge  of  mysterious  matters,  declared  that 
the  picture  was  a  holy  eikon;  that  it  had 
fallen  from  heaven,  and  that  a  church  must 
be  builded  on  the  spot  where  it  had  been 
found. 

As  the  grasshoppers  had  been  particu 
larly  bad  this  year,  the  rumor  soon  spread 
that  the  eikon  was  a  sign  that  the  Virgin 
was  about  to  listen  to  the  many  supplica 
tions  being  addressed  to  her.  A  collection 
was  accordingly  taken  up,  to  which  every 
one,  poor  and  rich,  contributed.  The  little 
church  was  builded  and  dedicated  to  the 
"Holy  Virgin,  the  Averter  of  Grasshop 
pers,"  and  the  holy  image  was  given  the 
place  of  honor  on  its  walls.  To  this  day, 
the  people  of  the  region  hold  a  religious 
festival  on  the  island  every  i5th  of  August, 
and  strange  to  say  (or,  perhaps,  not  strange, 
who  knows?),  the  grasshoppers  have  not 


Father  Anthony 


appeared  in  the  vicinity  of  Drytown  since 
the  building  of  the  church. 

Two  or  three  days  before  the  i5th, 
immediately  succeeding  Father  Anthony's 
appearance  in  the  neighborhood,  Marigo 
came  over  to  see  Paraskeve,  and  to  relate 
an  important  bit  of  news. 

"What  do  you  think?  "said  she;  "  Father 
Yanni  has  asked  the  handsome  young 
hermit  to  assist  in  the  vesper  service  next 
week,  and  he  has  consented." 

"Oh,  won't  that  be  glorious!"  cried 
Paraskeve;  "we  shall  actually  hear  him 
talk.  I'll  warrant  he  has  a  voice  as  sweet 
as  an  angel's." 

"  I,  for  one,"  declared  Marigo,  "  mean 
to  make  him  talk  to  me.  I  shall  invite  him 
to  eat  from  our  basket,  and  shall  offer  him 
wine  and  flowers;  if  he  refuses  all  these 
things,  I  shall  speak  to  him  about  the  state 
of  my  soul.  Once  get  the  ice  broken,  and 
he  won't  be  such  a  bugaboo." 

Paraskeve  made  no   reply,  but  she  felt 


201 


The  Tempting  of 

a  flush  of  feeling  run  through  her,  different 
from  anything  she  had  as  yet  known.  It 
was  not  exactly  anger,  and  yet  it  made  her 
feel  uncomfortable.  She  spoke  up  quite 
sharply. 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  myself. 
It  would  n't  be  proper,  and  I  think  you 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  Why, 
he's  a  monk." 

"  I  don't  care  what  he  is,"  pouted 
Marigo;  "a  monk  has  no  business  to  be  so 
handsome.  The  idea  of  his  taking  vows  to 
shun  all  the  women  in  the  world!  I  '11  give 
him  some  shunning  to  do." 

Marigo  was  a  plump  little  girl,  with  a 
round,  brown  face,  and  black,  mischievous 
eyes. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  Hth,  numerous 
small  boats  were  to  be  seen  coasting  along 
the  shores  of  the  bay.  Most  of  these  were 
filled  with  youths  and  maidens  in  gala 
attire.  In  many  were  chairs  and  tables, 
thrusting  their  legs  in  the  air  like  unfortu- 


202 


Father  Anthony 


nate  quadrupeds  laid  on  their  backs. 
Well-filled  lunch  baskets  were  stowed  away 
in  the  prows  of  all,  and  the  two  rival  wine 
dealers  of  Drytown  brought  along  casks  of 
their  best  vintage.  As  each  boat  unloaded, 
its  occupants  ran  about  in  an  excited  man 
ner,  seeking  to  pre-empt  the  most  favorable 
locality  for  the  placing  of  tables  and  chairs. 
Soon  several  booths  were  erected  for  the 
sale  of  sweetmeats,  biscuits,  and  resin  wine 
at  half  a  penny  a  glass.  One  enterprising 
countryman  had  roasted  a  young  pig  on  a 
wooden  spit,  and  had  set  it  up  by  the  side 
of  a  tree,  one  end  of  the  spit  being  stuck 
firmly  in  the  ground.  The  animal  was 
brown  as  a  berry,  and  before  its  dissection 
began,  looked  pathetically  life-like.  By 
its  side  stood  the  merchant,  a  huge  knife 
in  hand,  ready  to  cut  off  chunks  of  any 
desired  magnitude.  Right  merrily,  he 
shouted:  "  Come  on,  boys!  Come  on, 
heroes!  It's  loukoumi!  It's  a  pullet!  It's 

a  little  partridge!" 

203 


The  Tempting  of 

Blankets  were  spread,  too,  at  the  top  of 
poles  to  keep  off  the  night  dews,  for  most 
of  the  worshipers  intended  to  make  their 
beds  on  the  island,  and  to  remain  all  night. 

Father  Anthony,  assisted  by  the  village 
priest,  had  thoroughly  swept  the  church 
earlier  in  the  day.  Some  of  the  first  comers 
decorated  it  with  flowers,  and  hung  a  beau 
tiful  wreath  of  roses  about  the  kind  face  of 
the  Virgin. 

When  Marigo  arrived  with  her  family, 
the  island  was  already  covered  with  people. 
As  soon  as  she  could  find  an  opportunity, 
she  ran  about  among  the  crowd  in  search 
of  Father  Anthony.  The  village  priest,  a 
good,  kindly  soul,  was  eating  a  piece  of 
roast  pig,  and  discussing  a  glass  of  wine 
with  some  old-time  friends. 

"  If  he  was  only  socially  inclined  now, 
like  that,"  sighed  Marig6. 

Finding  him  nowhere  among  the  good- 
natured  throng,  she  peeped  at  last  into  the 

church.     There  sat  Father  Anthony,  pale, 
204 


Father  Anthony 


stern,  and  devout,  poring  over  the  eve 
ning's  service.  He  looked  so  wrapped  in 
holy  meditation  that  she  drew  back,  as 
though  guilty  of  a  sacrilege.  Then  she 
noticed  that  no  one  else  disturbed  him,  but 
that  others  peeped  in  at  the  door  furtively, 
as  though  wishing  to  avoid  the  appearance 
of  obtrusion  or  curiosity.  Occasionally 
passers-by  crossed  themselves  and  mur 
mured:  "A  saint  has  come  to  us." 

Marig6's  courage  deserted  her.  She 
stamped  her  foot  petulantly  on  the  ground 
and  sighed:  "  What  right  has  a  saint  to  be 
so  young  and  beautiful,  and  have  such 
curly  hair?" 

Early  in  the  evening  the  vespers  began. 
The  candles  were  lighted,  as  well  as  the 
tiny  oil  lamps  under  the  sacred  eikon. 
The  little  church  was  packed  with  people, 
and  a  devout  throng  crowded  about  the 
door.  As  fast  as*  those  within  forced  their 
way  out  to  get  breath,  others  elbowed  their 

way  in,   and    filled   up  the  vacant   places. 

205 


The  Tempting  of 

Hour  after  hour  Father  Anthony  read  the 
liturgy,  the  people  crossing  themselves  at 
the  appropriate  passages.  Occasionally  he 
swayed  the  censer  to  and  fro,  and  then  the 
candles  looked  like  stars  on  a  misty  night. 

Hour  after  hour  he  chanted  and  prayed 
on  in  the  dim,  incense-heavy  light.  His 
powers  of  endurance  seemed  supernatural. 

"  It  is  a  miracle,"  said  those  outside. 
"He  is  a  saint." 

And  during  the  entire  service  Paraskeve 
stood  in  the  front  rank  of  the  worshipers, 
her  great,  soulful  eyes  fixed  on  Father  An 
thony's  face.  She  was  in  gala  attire,  with 
her  most  beautiful  embroidered  scarf  tied 
about  her  head.  One  long,  heavy  braid 
fell  down  over  her  right  shoulder. 

When  he  first  saw  the  eyes,  Father  An 
thony  gave  a  start  and  lost  his  place  in  the 
sacred  book.  He  soon  found  it  again,  but 
it  seemed  as  though  two  white  arms  were 
stretched  across  the  page. 

'This    is    a  device    of    the    devil,"    he 
206 


Father  Anthony 


thought,  and  he  combated  the  delusion 
with  all  his  power  of  will.  If  he  fixed  his 
mind  sharply  on  the  meaning  of  the  text, 
the  arms  would  fade  entirely  away.  If  he 
relaxed  his  will  power  for  a  moment,  they 
took  shape  again  dimly  before  his  eyes, 
transparent,  so  that  he  could  see  the  lines 
through  them.  If  he  allowed  himself  to 
think,  "  How  beautiful  they  are,"  they 
flashed  before  him,  pink,  white,  and  round, 
and  he  lost  his  place  again.  At  such  times 
he  would  gasp:  "St.  Anthony,  help  me!" 
and  the  people  crossed  themselves,  saying 
one  to  another: 

"  He  is  talking  with  the  saints." 
And  then  the  eyes!  He  was  conscious 
they  were  fixed  upon  him  all  the  time.  No 
matter  how  firmly  he  resolved  not  to  look, 
he  found  himself  gazing  into  them  every 
moment. 

"This  is    no  woman,"    thought    Father 
Anthony;  "this  is  indeed  the  evil  one,  try 
ing  to  mock  me  in  the  ministration  of  the 
207 


The  Tempting  of 

Word,  and  to  make  a  public  shame  of  me 
I  will  go  on  until  my  powers  fail." 

Father  Yanni  fell  asleep  on  the  chancel 
steps  and  snored  mightily,  and  Father  An 
thony  read  on  and  on,  until  the  closeness 
of  the  air,  the  incense,  and  weariness  over 
came  him.  Toward  midnight  a  sudden 
faintness  seized  him.  The  page  became  a 
hopeless  blur.  Then  the  faces  of  the  wor 
shipers,  the  walls  of  the  church,  the  whole 
world  melted  together  into  a  great  night, 
through  which  shone  far  and  luminous  the 
starlike  eyes  of  Paraskeve. 

Great  excitement  prevailed.  The  young 
saint  had  fainted.  Perhaps  he  was  dead. 
Happily  some  one  was  present  who  knew 
that  he  needed  air,  and  he  was  carried  out 
of  the  church,  and  laid  tenderly  upon  the 
sand.  The  sea-breeze  immediately  revived 
him,  and  he  sat  up,  and  looked  around. 
The  first  thing  he  beheld  was  the  dark, 
pert  face  of  Marigo,  who  was  bending  over 

him,  offering  him  a  glass  of  wine. 
208 


Father  Anthony 


"  Drink  this,  my  father,  do,"  she  pleaded; 
"it  will  do  you  good." 

"  Yes,  drink  it,  father,"  chimed  in  the 
by-standers;  "  the  girl  is  right.  It  will  brace 
you  up." 

Father  Anthony  pushed  the  cup  from 
him. 

"I  do  not  drink  wine,"  he  said,  "and  I 
seek  no  help  from  women." 

For  the  moment  he  did  not  realize  where 
he  was,  until,  glancing  about  the  circle  of 
sympathetic  faces,  his  gaze  rested  upon  an 
old  man,  holding  aloft  a  pine  torch. 

It  was  Paraskeve's  servant,  and  by  his 
side  she  stood,  looking  down  upon  him  with 
pitying  eyes.  Father  Anthony  rose  to  his 
feet. 

"  Go  back  to.  the  church,  friends,"  he 
commanded.  "The  vespers  will  not  be 
finished  till  four  o'clock.  I  want  to  be 
alone." 

They  obeyed   him.     Until   nearly  dawn 

the  services  were  continued  by  Father  Yanni 
209 


The  Tempting  of 

in  the  little  church,  after  which  those  who 
were  weary  sought  their  rest,  and  the  re 
mainder  passed  the  time  until  dawn  singing 
and  talking. 

During  most  of  the  next  day  the  vil 
lagers  and  country  people  remained  on  the 
island,  making  merry. 

Pigs  and  lambs  were  roasted  on  spits, 
wine  flowed  free,  and  Grecian  soil  trembled 
once  more  to  the  tread  of  the  old  Pyrrhic 
dance. 

Paraskeve,  meanwhile,  was  conscious  of 
a  vague  feeling  of  shame  and  guilt,  for  what 
reason  she  could  not  tell.  She  found  herself 
blushing  when  spoken  to,  and  was  in  mortal 
dread  lest  some  one  should  ask  her  why. 

Father  Anthony  did  not  appear  during 
the  whole  day,  a  fact  which  at  first  caused 
much  uneasiness.  Some  ungodly  young 
men,  however,  who  came  over  on  the  morn 
ing  of  the  1 5th,  to  talk  with  the  girls  and  to 
dance,  found  his  boat  safely  tied  to  a  rock 
on  the  mainland. 

2IO 


Father  Anthony 


It  was  therefore  concluded  by  all  that  he 
had  gone  to  spend  the  day  in  solitude,  doubt 
less  regarding  participation  in  the  merry 
making  as  incompatible  with  his  vows  as  a 
hermit. 

And  so  he  had.  But  this  did  not  pre 
vent  his  lying  flat  on  a  crag  on  the  main 
land,  from  which  point  of  vantage  he  looked 
across  a  bit  of  sea,  down  upon  the  rocky 
islet,  where  his  church  was  situated.  The 
people  seemed  no  bigger  than  rabbits,  and 
it  was  utterly  impossible  to  distinguish  one 
from  another.  Yet  Father  Anthony  con 
tinued  to  gaze,  and  while  he  gazed  he  mut 
tered. 

"  She  is  a  devil,"  he  said;  "  more  danger 
ous  and  more  powerful  than  anything  I  have 
as  yet  encountered.  Oh,  St.  Anthony!  help 
me  in  this  my  hour  of  need.  What  beauti 
ful  eyes!  What  beautiful  eyes!  " 


211 


The  Tempting  ot 


XX. 

OEVERAL  days  after  the  festival  at 
^»— '  the  church,  Marigo  came  again  to 
Paraskeve's  house. 

"Let's  go  over  and  see  the  handsome 
monk,"  said  she. 

"What?"  cried  Paraskeve,  scarcely  cred 
iting  her  ears. 

"  Oh,  I  've  thought  out  a  good  excuse  for 
going.  We  '11  ask  the  Virgin  about  our 
lovers." 

"But  I  haven't  any  lover!"  said  Paras 
keve,  emphatically. 

"But  what  difference  does  that  make? 
It's  only  an  excuse  for  going,  in  case  any 
body  asks  us." 

"Besides,"  persisted  Paraskeve,  "the 
girls  never  go  to  that  Virgin  for  such  a  rea- 
(son.  They  go  to  the  one  on  the  monastery 
road." 

212 


Father  Anthony 


"Well,  what  of  that?  The  Virgin  is  the 
Virgin.  At  any  rate,  I  'm  going  over  to  the 
island,  and  I  shall  see  Father  Anthony.  He 
must  be  lonely  enough  to  talk  by  this  time. 
If  you  won't  go  with  me,  I  '11  take  Christo 
along." 

Christo  was  the  speaker's  ten-year-old 
brother. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  I  '11  come,"  said  Paras- 
keve,  as  Marig6  started  down  the  path. 
Snatching  up  a  scarf  for  her  head,  she  soon 
overtook  her  friend. 

"  We  must  be  back  in  an  hour,"  she  said. 
"  Aunt  Aspasia  has  gone  over  to  Father 
Yanni's  church  with  our  offering  of  white 
bread.  She  '11  be  apt  to  stop  and  talk  with 
the  priest's  wife  for  awhile.  If  I  get  back 
before  she  returns,  she  need  n't  know  I  've 
been  gone  at  all." 

Paraskeve  found  herself  contemplating 
deceit — a  circumstance  so  unusual  with  her 
that  she  felt  a  sharp  pang  of  remorse,  and 

stood  still  for  a  moment,  half  persuaded  to 
213 


The  Tempting  of 

turn  back.  Then  the  thought  struck  her: 
"  Is  it  right  to  let  this  giddy  girl  visit  the 
young  priest  alone?  Who  knows  what  she 
may  say  to  him  there,  or  about  him  after 
ward?  No,  it  is  my  duty  to  go." 

Paraskeve,  among  her  other  possessions, 
owned  a  very  fine  boat.  It  had  been  built 
in  Hydra,  and  was  rather  larger  than  an 
ordinary  cat-boat.  There  were  locks  for 
three  pairs  of  oars,  besides  a  socket  in  front, 
in  which  a  short  mast  could  be  set,  that  held 
a  long  yard  fixed  obliquely.  The  large,  tri 
angular  sail  was  not,  for  the  time  being,  in 
use,  as  Aunt  Aspasia  had  been  dyeing  it  a 
beautiful  terra-cotta  color  with  pine  bark, 
and  it  was  not  yet  dry. 

Paraskeve  could  manage  this  boat  as 
well  as  the  best  fisherman  on  the  Mediter 
ranean,  an  art  which  she  had  learned  from 
her  father. 

The  girls  were  soon  seated  in  the  craft, 
and  each  taking  an  oar,  they  pushed  off  for 


214 


Father  Anthony 

the  island.  A  very  few  moments  brought 
them  to  the  landing  place. 

"He's  here!  he's  here!  "  cried  Marigo 
in  a  tone  of  exultation. 

There,  indeed,  was  the  monk's  skiff 
drawn  up  on  a  tiny  bit  of  sand.  The  girls 
pulled  their  own  boat  out  beside  it,  and 
walked  briskly  to  the  church,  Marigo  lead 
ing  the  way. 

Outside  the  door  the  latter  cast  her  eyes 
around.  The  hermit  was  nowhere  in  sight. 

"He's  inside,"  whispered  Marigo,  her 
finger  to  her  lips.  "  Let  me  manage.  No 
tice  what  I  say."  Then  raising  her  voice, 
so  that  the  supposed  inmate  of  the  church 
could  hear,  she  continued:  "  Come  inside, 
Paraskeve,  quick,  while  good  Father  An 
thony  is  away.  Let's  ask  the  Virgin  now, 
while  no  one  is  near." 

Stepping  up  to  the  sacred  eikon,  she 
crossed  herself.  Then,  kissing  the  picture 
three  times  ostentatiously,  she  held  a  penny 


215 


The  Tempting  of 

against  its  face  while  she  prayed:  "Oh, 
Holy  Mother,  tell  me,  does  he  love  me  or 
does  he  not?"  Taking  her  fingers  from 
the  penny,  it  slid  to  the  floor.  Had  it  re 
mained  sticking  to  the  picture,  Marigo 
would  have  felt  herself  sure  of  her  lover's 
affection. 

"Oh,  isn't  that  mean!"  she  exclaimed, 
pursing  her  pretty  lips  into  a  pout.  "  Now, 
Paraskeve,  come  and  try  your  luck,  quick, 
before  Father  Anthony  comes." 

But  Paraskeve  steadily  refused,  on  the 
ground  that  she  had  no  lover. 

"  Oh,  you  mean  thing,"  suddenly  cried 
Marig6,' and  falling  against  the  curtain  she 
recovered  herself  inside  the  sacristy.  "  Stop 
pushing  me!" 

"I  didn't  push  you,"  declared  Paras 
keve,  angrily;  "what  do  you  mean  by  telling 
such  a  falsehood  ? " 

"  Well,  you  need  n't  get  so  angry  about 
it.  He  is  n't  in  there,  anyway.  Where  in 

the  world  can  he  be?    What  can  have  hap- 

216 


Father  Anthony 

pened  to  him?  Maybe  he's  fallen  off  a 
rock  and  got  drowned." 

Startled  by  this  reflection  the  two  girls 
ran  around  the  entire  circumference  of  the 
island,  but  nothing  of  Father  Anthony 
could  they  see.  Marig6  even  raised  her 
voice  and  called  his  name  shrilly,  but  the 
sound  floated  away  over  the  heaving  waters, 
and  no  answer  came  back.  Then  they  sat 
down  on  a  cliff,  with  their  feet  hanging 
over,  and  put  their  arms  around  each  oth 
er's  waists. 

"He's  gone  away,"  said  Paraskeve. 

"  No,  his  boat  would  not  be  here  then," 
replied  Marigo.  "  He  has  fallen  into  the 
sea  and  been  drowned.  Perhaps  from  this 
very  cliff." 

They  both  bent  forward  and  looked 
timidly  down.  The  cliff  was  very  high  and 
stern,  and  the  waves  were  piling  white 
foam  at  its  feet.  They  seemed  like  playful 
babes  toddling  up  to  the  knees  of  some 

dreadful   warrior  with   their  hands  full  of 
217 


The  Tempting  of 

lilies.  The  girls  buried  their  faces  each  in 
the  other's  shoulder  and  wept. 

On  their  way  back  to  the  boat  Paras- 
keve  stopped  and  held  up  a  forefinger. 
Both  listened.  A  man's  voice  could  be 
heard,  faint  and  far  off,  in  continuous  dis 
course  of  some  kind.  They  moved  again 
to  the  edge  of  the  island,  and  were  left  in 
doubt  no  longer.  They  could  not  distin 
guish  words,  but  Father  Anthony  was  some 
where  praying.  But  where?  For  no  sign 
of  him  could  they  see. 

"  Holy  Virgin,  help  us!  "  gasped  Marigo. 
"  He  is  indeed  drowned,  and  that  is  his 
ghost.  Come  away  quickly.  If  we  see  him 
we  are  both  dead  women,"  and  she  hurried 
to  the  boat,  threw  herself  flat  upon  her 
face,  and  covered  her  head  with  her  cloak. 

"  I  will  find  him,"  muttered  Paraskeve; 
"  I  will  save  him.  He  is  down  there  in  the 
sea.  Even  if  he  is  dead,  I  would  rather 
see  his  ghost  than  any  other  man  alive." 

She  fluttered  along  the  edge  of  the  cliff 
218 


Father  Anthony 


like  a  bird.  She  came  to  a  place  where 
descent  was  possible  to  a  narrow  shelf  by 
the  sea's  edge.  Along  this  she  tiptoed, 
holding  on  to  the  stunted  shrubs.  Where 
the  shelf  ended,  a  transverse  wall  rose  be 
fore  her,  pierced  by  a  narrow  tunnel.  She 
fell  upon  her  hands  and  knees,  and  crawled 
through.  When  she  arose,  she  found  her 
self  upon  a  bit  of  white  sand,  in  a  recess 
which  the  waves  had  hollowed  out  in  the 
base  of  the  cliff.  Before  her  knelt  Father 
Anthony,  praying  frantically. 

Seeing  Paraskeve,  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  shrank  back  against  the  rocks  with  one 
hand  thrown  out  before  him,  as  if  warding 
off  some  great  danger. 

"Avaunt!"  he  cried;  "  for  now  I  know 
thee  for  what  thou  art.  Thy  great,  sweet 
eyes,  and  thy  beautiful  white  arms  have 
been  in  my  mind  night  and  day,  driving 
out  holy  contemplation.  Those  eyes  have 
waked  me  up  at  night,  shining  in  the  room 

like  morning   stars.     And  I  said:    'It's  not 
219 


The  Tempting  of 

a  devil;  they  are  so  soft,  so  tender.'  But 
now  as  thou  hast  even  followed  me  here,  I 
know  that  thou  art  indeed  a  devil." 

Suddenly  he  stepped  forward  and  fell 
again  upon  his  knees. 

"  Go  away,  sweet  devil,"  he  prayed. 
"  Hadst  thou  even  come  in  such  a  form  to 
my  master,  St.  Anthony,  he  could  not  have 
resisted  thee.  Go  away,  thou  art  too  beau 
tiful.  I  am  not  worthy  to  be  tempted  by 
such  divine  loveliness.  Alas!  I  am  no 
saint!  I  am  only  poor  Anastasi  of  Damala. 
Go  away!  Go  away!  " 

Paraskeve's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She 
made  no  reply,  but  turned  about  and  van 
ished  as  she  had  come. 

Paraskeve  arrived  at  the  house  again 
before  her  aunt's  return.  Without  remov 
ing  the  scarf  from  her  head,  she  went  to  a 
little  mirror  in  her  bedroom,  and  looked  at 
her  reflection  long  and  earnestly. 

"  Poor  man!  "  she  sighed,  at  last;  "poor 
man!  I  was  never  loved  like  that  before. 

220 


Father  Anthony 

What  shall  I  do?  He  seems  to  be  going 
crazy  for  me!  "  Then  she  looked  in  the 
glass  again. 

"  My  eyes  are  not  bad,"  she  said. 


231 


The  Tempting  of 


XXI. 

FEATHER  ANTHONY  found  little  re 
lief  in  prayer.  His  only  salvation 
was  to  forget  the  beautiful  devil,  but  the 
more  he  prayed,  the  more  vividly  did  her 
image  present  itself  before  his  excited 
mind.  After  two  or  three  sleepless  nights 
and  as  many  days  of  vain  misery,  he  made 
the  heroic  resolve  to  quit  the  scene  of  his 
temptation  forever. 

"It  is  cowardly,"  he  said,  "but  I  would 
rather  fly  from  the  devil  than  yield  to  him." 

Accordingly,  he  tied  his  few  possessions, 
including  half  a  loaf  of  bread,  into  a  blanket 
which  he  had  recently  acquired,  and  depos 
ited  the  bundle  in  the  skiff  along  with  the 
precious  "  Lives  of  the  Saints."  Landing, 
he  slung  his  blanket  over  his  shoulder,  took 
the  book  under  his  arm,  and  started  reso 
lutely  down  the  curving  sea  beach,  in  the 


222 


Father  Anthony 


direction  away  from  Paraskeve's  house. 
Occasionally,  as  he  looked  back,  he  could 
see  it  on  the  hillside,  white,  nestling  among 
the  trees.  At  other  times  the  dense  foliage 
or  a  crag  hid  it  from  view.  Father  Anthony 
walked  with  his  head  bent  down  and  his 
lips  moving.  At  last  he  passed  behind  a 
pile  of  rocks  that  shut  out  entirely  from  his 
view  the  house  and  the  peaceful  valley.  If 
he  continued  in  that  direction,  he  would 
never  see  them  more. 

On  the  morning  of  the  same  day,  Paras- 
keve  had  gone  far  up  the  hillside  to  look 
for  two  baby  kids  which  a  shepherd  had 
told  her  of.  There  had  been  rain  during 
the  night,  a  rather  extraordinary  occurrence 
at  that  season,  and  she  feared  that  the  kids 
might  chill  through  and  die  for  want  of 
attention.  She  found  them — long-legged, 
big-jointed,  and  silken-eared.  One  was  quite 
lively,  bunting  at  the  dugs  and  wiggling  its 
stumpy  tail  most  gleefully.  The  other  was 

lying  upon  the  ground,  shivering.     Occa- 

223 


The  Tempting  of 

sionally  it  staggered  to  its  feet,  then  sank 
down  again,  saying  "  mama,"  precisely  like 
a  sick  child.  The  old  goat  looked  at  it  with 
big,  frightened  eyes.  When  she  saw  her 
mistress,  she  gave  evidences  of  the  greatest 
joy,  and  greeted  her  with  nervous,  thankful 
bleatings.  Paraskeve  placed  the  poor  little 
kid  under  her  cloak,  and  pressed  it  affec 
tionately  to  her  bosom.  She  cooed  over  it 
as  though  it  were  a  baby. 

"Coo!  coo!  coo!  "she  said.  "Don't  be 
afraid,  poor  thing!  How  its  little  heart 
beats.  Be  still,  little  heart!  Paraskeve 
won't  hurt  it.  Don't  be  afraid.  Coo!  coo! 
coo!" 

Only  its  head  protruded  from  the  cloak, 
the  long,  silken  ears  flapping  about  the  thin 
face  and  big,  sad  eyes.  Then  she  took  the 
other  kid  under  her  right  arm,  and  started 
for  home,  the  mother  goat  following  con 
tentedly,  bleating  occasionally  in  tones  which 
expressed  the  most  perfect  confidence.  Thus 

Paraskeve  picked  her  way  along  the  moun- 
224 


Stepping  safely  from  rock  to  rock. 


Father  Anthony 

tain  path,  talking  to  her  charges  as  she  went. 
There  was  no  danger  of  her  falling,  for  she 
was  as  neat  of  ankle  and  sure  of  foot  as  a 
gazelle.  Thus  she  crossed  the  noisy  stream 
high  up,  stepping  safely  from  rock  to  rock, 
and  at  last  she  came  into  an  open  field  back 
of  her  house. 

Here  Father  Anthony,  hidden  among 
the  rushes  that  grew  beside  the  stream,  saw 
her,  for  he  had  come  back  to  take  one  more 
look  before  leaving  the  region  forever.  And 
when  he  saw  her,  a  sudden  faintness  seized 
him,  and  the  world  began  to  reel.  He 
pressed  one  hand  to  his  heart  and  steadied 
himself  by  seizing  the  limb  of  a  tree. 

Now  it  happened  that  Farmer  Petropou- 
los's  black  bull,  a  sturdy  and  fierce  little  ani 
mal  that  had  been  lost  for  several  days,  at 
that  very  moment  stepped  out  from  the 
olive  trees  skirting  the  open  field,  and  looked 
about  him.  Paraskeve  instantly  caught  sight 
of  the  animal  and  commenced  to  run,  clutch 
ing  the  kids  convulsively,  as  though  they 
225 


The  Tempting  of 

were  the  real  objects  in  danger.  As  she 
quickened  her  pace,  the  wind  unwound  from 
her  head  the  long  scarf,  which  on  this  par 
ticular  occasion  happened  to  be  red,  and 
one  end  of  it  catching  to  a  coral  ornament 
in  her  hair,  it  floated  out  behind  like  a 
streamer.  The  bull  accepted  this  as  a  per 
sonal  challenge,  and  lowering  his  head,  he 
bounded  after  the  fleeing  girl.  For  a  mo 
ment  she  held  on  to  the  kids,  too  confused 
and  frightened  to  know  what  to  do.  Then 
her  country  common  sense  came  to  her  res 
cue,  and  dropping  the  little  animals,  she 
darted  behind  a  large  oak  tree  that  grew  in 
the  center  of  the  opening.  She  was  not  a 
moment  too  soon,  for  almost  immediately 
the  bull  dashed  past  her,  unable  to  over 
come  the  momentum  of  his  rush.  Turning, 
he  charged  again,  and  Paraskeve  dodged  a 
second  time.  The  girl  was  in  the  most  immi 
nent  peril.  It  seemed  that,  left  to  her  own 
resources,  she  must  surely  be  killed.  A 
happy  thought  gave  her  a  moment's  respite. 


226 


Father  Anthony 


Jerking  the  red  scarf  loose  from  her  head, 
she  cast  it  from  her.  It  sailed  off  for  a  little 
distance  on  the  wind,  and  the  mad  animal 
flew  after  it.  While  he  was  stamping  the 
scarf  beneath  his  feet,  and  goring  at  it  in 
vain,  Paraskeve  stepped  from  behind  the 
tree,  thinking  to  make  a  dash  for  the  house. 
She  had,  in  fact,  stolen  a  few  steps  on  tip 
toe,  fists  doubled,  head  bent  forward,  eyes 
almost  starting  from  their  sockets,  when  the 
bull  caught  sight  of  her  and  again  rushed  at 
her.  Father  Anthony  gazed  at  the  com 
mencement  of  this  strange  scene  in  a  sort 
of  stupor,  then  of  a  sudden  all  the  manhood 
in  him  awoke. 

"  Devil  or  no  devil,  I  must  save  her!  "  he 
cried,  and  plunged  into  the  stream,  on  the 
farther  side  of  which  he  had  been  standing. 
The  water  was  up  to  his  knees,  and  he 
stumbled  about  among  the  rocks,  dropping 
his  precious  "  Lives  of  the  Saints"  without 
a  thought  as  to  its  fate.  Up  the  bank  he 

scrambled,  and    in    a   few  long  strides  he 
227 


The  Tempting  of 

reached  the  tree  just  as  the  bull  had  com 
menced  to  circle  around  it  with  more  me 
thodical  and  deadly  intent.  Throwing 
himself  upon  the  animal,  he  seized  it  by 
the  horns,  and  shouted  to  Paraskeve, 
"  Run,  now.  Run  for  your  life!  " 

The  girl  waited  for  no  second  command, 
but  scurried  toward  the  house  like  a  fright 
ened  rabbit. 

And  now  transpired  one  of  those  scenes 
which  prove  how  closely  the  sublime  is  allied 
to  the  ridiculous.  Father  Anthony  could  no 
more  hold  the  bull  than  he  could  have 
hurled  a  Jovian  thunderbolt.  He  did  suc 
ceed  for  several  seconds  in  retaining  his 
grasp  of  the  horns,  and  during  that  space 
of  time  he  was  flourished  about  in  the  air 
very  much  like  a  feather  duster  in  the  hands 
of  a  housemaid.  His  long  robe,  meanwhile, 
caught  in  a  shrub,  and  was  torn  partly  off, 
revealing  a  pair  of  light  trousers  of  the 
pattern  known  as  "check." 

Near  the  tree  was  a  deep,  narrow  gully, 
228 


Father  Anthony 


through  which  in  winter-time  a  swift  brook 
ran  into  the  larger  stream.  This  gully  saved 
Father  Anthony's  life,  for  he  was  soon  lying 
on  his  back  at  the  bottom  of  it,  senseless, 
with  two  ribs  broken. 

The  bull,  completely  puzzled  by  the  dis 
appearance  of  both  his  victims,  pawed  the 
ground  for  a  short  while  in  impotent  rage, 
and  finally  disappeared  among  the  olive 
trees. 


229 


The  Tempting  of 


XXII. 

A  UNT  ASPASIA  and  Paraskeve  lifted 
•**•  the  unfortunate  hermit  from  the 
gully,  and  bore  him  to  the  house.  Here 
he  was  put  tenderly  to  bed,  and  everything 
within  the  power  of  rustic  knowledge  was 
done  for  him.  The  extent  of  his  injuries 
was  not  known,  however,  till  the  next 
morning,  when  the  man  of  all  work, 
who  had  been  dispatched  to  Spetsai  in 
the  boat,  arrived  from  there  with  a  young 
doctor. 

This  limb  of  science,  who  had  graduated 
at  the  excellent  University  of  Athens,  and 
afterward  at  Berlin,  pronounced  Father 
Anthony's  wound  serious,  but  not  neces 
sarily  fatal. 

"He  is  not,"  he  said,  "injured  inter 
nally." 

The  two  ribs  were  skillfully  bandaged, 


Father  Anthony 


minute  directions  were  given  as  to  the  care 
of  the  patient,  and  the  doctor  left,  with  in 
structions  that  he  was  to  be  sent  for  again 
within  two  days. 

Aunt  Aspasia,  who  was  a  prudent  soul, 
although  kind-hearted,  was  somewhat  terri 
fied  at  the  expense  thus  incurred.  She  sug 
gested  that  the  doctor  might  be  sent  for,  if 
needed.  But  Paraskeve  resented  this  inter 
ference  with  an  asperity  unusual  to  her 
nature. 

"The  doctor  shall  remain  here  for  a 
week,  if  necessary,"  she  said.  "  Why,  I  owe 
my  life  to  Father  Anthony." 

The  hermit  improved  slowly,  but  surely, 
despite  the  numerous  herb  drinks  which 
Aunt  Aspasia  forced  down  his  throat.  There 
are  no  women  in  the  world  equal  to  those 
of  Greece  in  zeal  for  concocting  herb  teas. 
If  any  plant  tastes  or  smells  especially  nasty, 
the  Greek  housewife  says:  '  This  must 
have  medicinal  properties,"  and  immedi 
ately  she  lays  in  a  stock  of  it  as  a  provision 
231 


The  Tempting  of 

against  the  first  case  of  sickness  that  may 
break  out  in  her  family. 

Paraskeve  nursed  Father  Anthony  with 
the  greatest  assiduity  and  tenderness,  but 
rarely  spoke  to  him.  The  scene  on  the 
island  was  too  vividly  fixed  in  her  mind, 
and  she  was  afraid  that  he  might  by  voice 
or  look  betray  the  state  of  his  feelings  to 
her  aunt.  How  wide  awake  that  lady  was 
in  finding  out  other  people's  secrets,  the  girl 
knew  by  long  observation.  The  language 
of  eyes,  however,  is  not  easily  suppressed. 
Often,  when  Paraskeve  glanced  shyly  at  the 
young  hermit,  she  found  him  looking  at  her 
in  a  way  that  frightened  her.  The  white 
ness  of  his  thin,  classical  face,  drawn  as  it 
was  with  pain,  was  intensified  by  the  dark 
brown  curls  that  clustered  thickly  about  his 
forehead.  This  very  pallidness  of  counte 
nance  made  his  eyes  seem  larger  than  their 
wont,  and  there  was  in  them  a  mingling  of 
despair  and  passion,  a  mixture  of  fire  and 
darkness,  like  the  flashing  of  lightning  on  a 
332 


Father  Anthony 

stormy  night.  He  looked  at  Paraskeve  as 
a  condemned  man  gazes  at  the  sky  for  the 
last  time. 

The  girl  was  within  his  sight  or  hearing 
most  of  the  day,  for  his  bed  had  been  made 
up  in  the  principal  room  of  the  house.  Very 
beautiful  and  good  she  looked  in  all  the 
humble  employments  of  her  life:  whether 
sitting  in  the  door  making  embroidery,  pre 
paring  vegetables  for  the  evening  meal,  or 
passing  the  door  from  time  to  time  as  she 
walked  up  and  down  the  porch  with  her 
long,  forked  distaff  fixed  to  her  waist. 
Sometimes  she  sat  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  bare-armed,  feeding  with  a  spoon  the 
delicate  kid  that  she  had  gone  to  seek  on 
that  memorable  day.  At  such  times  the 
mother  goat  looked  in  at  the  door,  bleating 
softly,  with  a  look  of  inscrutable  wisdom  on 
her  ancient,  bewhiskered  face — an  expres 
sion  which  none  but  the  animal  sacred  to 
the  tragic  muse  ever  attains.  The  baby  kid 
soon  grew  stronger,  and  then  so  affectionate 
233 


The  Tempting  of 

did  the  goat  family  become  that  Paraskeve 
was  forced  to  tether  the  mother  at  a  dis 
tance  from  the  house,  in  hopes  that  her  off 
spring  would  remain  there  with  her.  The 
device,  however,  was  of  no  avail,  so  far  as 
the  rescued  kid  was  concerned.  The  mo 
ment  it  saw  its  mistress  it  came  bounding 
to  her.  Often  it  bleated  at  the  door  in  the 
morning  till  she  appeared,  and  it  followed 
her  about  like  a  dog  all  day. 

One  afternoon  when  the  ribs  were  nearly 
well,  but  while  Father  Anthony  was  still 
very  weak,  Aunt  Aspasia  was  obliged  to 
leave  the  house  for  several  hours  to  super 
intend  the  gathering  of  the  quinces  on  two 
very  choice  trees.  Paraskeve  was  sitting 
at  the  loom  singing  in  a  low  voice  exactly 
as  she  had  been  when  the  young  hermit 
first  saw  her.  She  had  been  thus  engaged 
for  an  hour  or  so,  when  she  was  startled  by 
hearing  Father  Anthony  call:  "  Paraskeve! 
Paraskeve! " 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  spoken 
234 


Father  Anthony 


her  name,  and  she  arose  and  went  over  to 
him,  trembling  like  a  leaf. 

"Where's  my  book?"  he  said;  "my 
'  Lives  of  the  Saints '  ? " 

"We  didn't  find  any  book.  Did  you 
have  a  book  with  you? " 

'  Yes;  my  life  of  St.  Anthony.  I  must 
have  dropped  it  in  the  river  that  day  when 
— when — " 

"  When  you  saved  my  life,"  concluded 
Paraskeve.  Father  Anthony's  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  and  his  face  distorted  like  that 
of  a  child  about  to  cry.  Paraskeve  impul 
sively  took  him  in  her  white  arms  as  she 
had  taken  the  little  kid,  and  his  curly  head 
fell  upon  her  bosom.  He  returned  the 
embrace  convulsively,  and  they  kissed 
each  other  again  and  again. 

When  Aunt  Aspasia  returned,  Paraskeve 
was  sitting  at  the  loom,  singing  a  sweet 
love-song  of  Hydra. 


235 


The  Tempting  of 


XXIII. 

f  I  ^HE  next  morning  Father  Anthony  was 
A  gone,  much  to  the  genuine  dismay 
of  both  Paraskeve  and  her  aunt.  The 
latter,  accompanied  by  the  faithful  man, 
went  over  to  the  island  and  found  the  her 
mit  again  installed  in  the  church. 

"  He  says  he  is  all  right  now,"  reported 
the  older  woman  on  her  return,  "and  that 
there  is  no  reason  why  he  should  trouble  us 
longer.  That  he  is  a  hermit  and  it  is  not 
right  for  him  to  live  in  a  house,  when  he  is 
able  to  stay  in  the  wilderness.  He  thanked 
us  all,  and  bade  me  say  good-bye  to  you, 
as  he  is  going  to  leave  the  neighborhood 
to-morrow.  He  is  going  to  a  lonelier  place. 
God  save  him!"  she  ejaculated,  crossing 
herself,  "  he  is  the  greatest  saint  that  ever 
lived." 

If  Aunt  Aspasia  had  watched  her  niece's 
236 


face  closely  from  that  time  forth  she  would 
have  observed  there  an  unusual  expression: 
a  look  of  fixed  determination  and  of  exalta 
tion,  as  of  one  who  has  passed  some  mental 
rubicon,  who  has  made  up  his  mind  to  take 
some  great  and  decisive  step  at  all  hazards. 
Every  female  of  the  human  race  is  a  born 
plotter,  no  matter  how  innocently  she  may 
have  been  reared.  So  skillfully  did  Paras- 
keve  carry  out  her  determination  that  she 
managed  to  send  her  aunt  off  the  very  next 
morning  to  Drytown,  in  charge  of  the  man, 
without  exciting  the  least  suspicion  in  the 
breasts  of  either.  The  fall  quinces  were 
waiting  to  be  put  up,  and  the  supply  of 
sugar  and  other  necessaries  must  be  bought. 
Beside,  Aunt  Aspasia  had  not  seen  her 
bosom  friend,  the  priest's  wife,  in  over  a 
month,  and  there  was  a  great  accumulation 
of  gossip  to  be  exchanged. 

As  soon  as  the  two  were  gone,  Paras- 
keve  flew  about  as  though  she  had  but  an 
hour  in  which  to  do  the  work  of  a  lifetime. 
237 


The  Tempting  of 

She  carried  the  boat's  yard  down,  and  tied 
it  firmly  to  the  mast.  She  fastened  the 
three-cornered  sail  and  gathered  it  neatly 
at  the  top  of  the  yard.  Returning  to  the 
house,  she  brought  thence  food  and  two 
big  earthen  jars  for  water.  She  also  emp 
tied  all  her  dowry  finery  upon  the  floor, 
and  dragged  the  heavy  trunk  to  the  boat, 
where  she  stowed  it  safely  away  in  the 
prow.  The  contents  followed,  transported 
by  armfuls,  and  were  repacked.  The  Turk 
ish  gold  coins  tinkled  like  fairy  bells  on  the 
garments  which  they  adorned. 

Among  the  other  contents  of  the  chest  was 
a  bag  of  gold  and  silver  coins,  the  savings  of 
Paraskeve's  father.  She  left  a  few  of  these 
in  one  of  Aunt  Aspasia's  everyday  stock 
ings,  for  immediate  needs. 

"  I  leave  her  the  house  and  farm,"  mut 
tered  Paraskeve;  "she'll  never  come  to 
want.  Dear  old  Aunt  Aspasia!  But  I 
must  n't  think." 

This  latter  reflection  was  inspired  by  a 
338 


Father  Anthony 


large  tear  which  fell  with  unexpected 
plash  upon  the  shapely  hand. 

Paraskeve's  father  had  been  a  prudent 
man,  and  had  never  touched  the  dowry 
which  he  had  received  with  his  wife.  His 
daughter's  portion  included  these  coins, 
and  the  good  man's  savings  of  twenty  years, 
amounting  in  all  to  over  twenty  thousand 
drachmas. 

But  the  girl  took  away  one  thing  with 
her  which  she  prized  more  than  money, 
and  that  was  the  holy  eikon,  or  picture 
of  the  Virgin  Mary,  before  which  she 
had  said  her  prayers  daily  from  earliest 
childhood. 

Before  this  she  stood  and  prayed  fer 
vently  for  a  few  moments,  that  the  dear 
Virgin  would  forgive  her  and  protect  her 
and  would  take  care  of  Aunt  Aspasia. 
Then  she  kissed  the  picture  three  times, 
and  bade  it  good-bye  with  streaming  eyes. 
But  she  turned  back  again,  sobbing:  "  No, 
no!  I  cannot  leave  it.  I  shouldn't  be  safe 
239 


The  Tempting  of 

without  it  a  single  day.  I  am  going  away 
from  the  dear  old  home  forever.  Perhaps 
another  house  will  not  seem  so  strange  if  I 
see  our  Virgin  hanging  on  the  wall." 

She  took  the  picture  down  reverently, 
wrapped  it  in  an  apron,  and  carried  it  to 
the  trunk.  Before  shoving  off  the  prow 
of  the  boat  she  crossed  herself  with  great 
solemnity.  At  this  instant  she  heard  the 
excited  bleating  of  a  kid,  and  her  little 
pet  came  bounding  down  the  path  to  her. 

"  Paraskeve  would  n't  leave  it  behind," 
she  said,  as  she  picked  the  animal  up  and 
put  it  in  the  boat.  "No,  she  wouldn't. 
Coo!  coo!  coo!" 

Finally  she  shoved  clear  with  one  of  the 
oars,  opened  the  latteen  sail,  and  flitted 
over  to  the  island. 

When  Aunt  Aspasia  was  nearing  home 
on  her  return  from  Drytown,  the  sun  was 
about  half  way  down  the  sky,  and  the 
long  shadows  of  herself  and  the  donkey, 

and  of  the  man  trotting  beside,  slid  along 
240 


Burning  in  the  level  rays  of  the  sun  was  a  terra  cotta  sail. 


Father  Anthony 

before  her  over  the  dusty  road.  The  yel 
low  sunlight  sifted  among  the  pine  trees 
like  a  fine  dust,  and  the  tips  of  the  dis 
tant  mountains  were  touched  with  gold. 
Shortly  before  the  path  turned  down  into 
the  familiar  little  valley,  it  followed  for 
awhile  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  Here  the 
open  sea  suddenly  broke  upon  the  view, 
infinitely  trembling  in  the  soft  light.  A 
long  trail  of  glory  fell  across  the  water, 
a  golden  road  leading  from  the  setting 
sun.  It  stretched  between  two  little  islands 
almost  on  the  rim  of  the  world,  and  there, 
leaning  low  in  the  fresh  breeze,  and  burn 
ing  in  the  level  rays  of  the  sun  was  a 
terra-cotta  sail.  Aunt  Aspasia  shaded  her 
eyes  with  her  hand:  "Dear  me,  Spiro," 
said  she,  "  that  looks  like  our  boat, 
doesn't  it?" 

"Bah!  bah!  bah! "  replied  Spiro. 

"  Oh,  of  course,  it  could  n't  be,"  said 
Aunt  Aspasia. 


241 


The  Tempting  of 


XXIV. 

beautiful  spring  day,  a  short, 
fat,  prosperous  looking  young  man 
walked  briskly  along  one  of  the  principal 
streets  of  Nauplia.  He  was  a  very  self- 
satisfied  young  man  to  all  appearances, 
and  everything  about  him  gave  the  im 
pression  of  roundness  and  completeness. 
His  face  was  ruddy  and  round,  his  stomach 
was  round,  and  he  wore  a  little  round  hat 
upon  his  head.  In  addition,  his  clothing 
was  fresh  and  new,  and  his  boots  were 
highly  polished. 

This  young  man  was  evidently  a  stran 
ger  in  Nauplia,  for  he  looked  at  every 
thing  with  the  greatest  curiosity.  Occa 
sionally,  when  a  new  object  of  interest 
broke  upon  his  view,  he  paused  and  gazed 
at  it  for  several  minutes  with  mouth  wide 

open,  as  though  he  had  eyes  in  his  throat. 
242 


Father  Anthony 


Nor  did  he  use  his  mouth  only  as  a  silent 
adjunct  to  the  organs  of  sight.  He  fre 
quently  stopped  passers-by  with  that  air 
of  bonhomie  which  only  fat  men  acquire 
in  greatest  perfection,  and  asked  for  in 
formation.  Thus  he  was  shown  the  gloomy 
fortress  of  Palamidi,  with  the  flight  of  eight 
hundred  and  seventy  -  five  steps  leading 
up  to  it;  the  island  in  the  bay,  where 
the  public  executioner  is  kept  guarded 
lest  the  relatives  of  the  condemned  man 
should  murder  him;  the  church  where 
Capodistrias  was  killed,  and  many  other 
things  for  which  the  beautiful  town  is 
famous. 

Now  it  happened  that  during  his  ramble 
he  found  himself  by  accident,  or  perhaps 
by  instinct,  before  a  wine  shop  of  ex 
tremely  neat  appearance.  In  a  small,  square 
yard  were  half  a  dozen  tables  flanked  by 
chairs.  The  door  was  shaded  by  a  grape 
arbor,  invitingly  green,  and  within  could 
be  seen  several  rows  of  barrels,  whose 
243 


The  Tempting  of 

enormous  size  promised  unlimited  refresh 
ment. 

A  man,  evidently  the  proprietor,  sat  un 
der  the  arbor,  smoking  a  narghile.  This 
man  was  an  extremely  handsome  speci 
men  of  the  best  type  of  Greek.  His  fea 
tures  were  classical  in  outline,  and  his 
head  was  crowned  with  a  mass  of  short, 
brown  curls.  His  cheeks  were  ruddy,  and 
his  eyes  shone  with  health  and  content. 
As  the  stranger  looked,  a  little  girl  of  ex 
traordinary  beauty  burst  from  the  house 
and  ran  laughing  to  the  man's  knee.  He 
took  her  upon  his  lap,  and  trotting  her 
up  and  down  chuckled  affectionately.  The 
stranger  opened  the  gate,  and  walking 
briskly  up  to  the  father  and  child  gazed 
at  them  intently.  The  little  girl,  embar 
rassed  and  somewhat  frightened,  slid  down 
and  ran  into  the  house.  The  father  rose 
and  returned  the  stare. 

"  It  is  Anastasi!  "  finally  said  the  stran 
ger. 

244 


Father  Anthony 


"  Kotsas!  "  cried  the  girl's  father,  and  the 
men  embraced  and  kissed  each  other. 

"  I  'm  here  on  my  wedding  trip,"  volubly 
explained  the  demarch's  son,  seating  him 
self  at  the  table.  "  I  've  married  a  beauti 
ful  girl,  10,000  drachmas  dowry.  She's  at 
the  hotel — too  tired  to  come  out.  But  tell 
me  all  about  yourself.  How  in  the  name  of 
all  the  saints  do  I  find  you  here?  Is  this 
your  place?" 

"Slowly,  slowly,"  said  Anastasi.  "Wait 
till  I  bring  a  bottle  of  my  oldest  wine,  some 
thing  exceptional,  in  honor  of  the  occasion." 

The  wine  was  brought,  and  opened  with 
a  long  explanation  of  its  history  and  merits. 

"  But  I  'm  dying  to  hear  what  has  become 
of  you  all  these  years.  What  have  you  been 
doing  since  you  left  the  monastery?"  inter 
rupted  Kotsas,  at  last. 

"How's  my  father?" 

"Oh,  he's  well.  A  little  old,  of  course, 
but  enjoying  life.  Perikles  is  the  priest  now 
— married  to  little  Katina  Poulios,  and  got 
245 


Father  Anthony 


one  child — a  boy.     But  I  '11  tell  you  all  this 
afterward.    First  let 's  hear  about  yourself." 

"And  my  mother,  the  dear  old  lady?" 

"Still  in  good  health,  and  seemingly  as 
young  as  ever.  But,  good  heavens,  my 
brother!  don't  play  with  me  this  way.  How 
about  St.  Anthony  and  the  devils,  and  all 
that?" 

Anastasi  held  up  his  wine-glass  to  the 
sun  and  looked  through  it  critically  for  a 
few  moments. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  he  said  at  last,  very 
slowly,  "  it  was  only  the  devil  that  tempted 
St.  Anthony  after  all.  I  was  tempted  by  a 
real  woman! " 

At  that  moment  Paraskeve  came  and 
stood  in  the  door,  holding  a  chubby  baby  in 
her  arms.  She  was  more  beautiful  than  ever. 

Kotsas  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  removing 
his  hat,  made  a  low  bow.  "Ah!"  he  said, 
under  his  breath. 

FINIS. 


246 


ur>i  vr.iv.3i  J.  » 


Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-32m-8,'57(.C8680s4)444 


3515    Tempting  of 
_H7846t 


A  000  924  002  9 


thony 


PS 

3515 

H7846t 


